MTL - Silver Overlord - v2 Chapter 872 Vulcan

Su Qiuge transmigrated into a novel and became the villain’s cannon fodder younger sister who was constantly courting disaster.

Not only did her brother dislike her, but she also offended her brother’s sworn enemy, the male lead.

After she transmigrated, Su Qiuge decided to curry favor with the male lead so that he would abandon his plans of revenge against her. She wanted to transform her cannon fodder fate and became an obscure passerby in his life instead.

Her plans were going smoothly, until one day she saw the aloof and cold male lead staring at her with a terribly dark gaze full of possessive desire.

Su Qiuge:?? Male lead wake up! I’m the cannon fodder!

Later she realized that the male lead who seemed like a good student was actually black-bellied and full of unspeakable intentions towards her.

Somewhere in the wilderness. As soon as Ruan Youqing cleared up the gangsters, he turned around and saw Mr. Shoufu who came behind him. Throwing away the meteor hammer he picked up casually, Ruan Youqing fell into his arms by coincidence.

Ruan Youqing looked shy: “If Master Shoufu hadn’t arrived in time, you Qing would have been in trouble.”

Ignoring the screams and wailing next to his ears, Master Shoufu who did nothing stretched out his hand to wipe off the blood on the girl’s face, Then he said without changing his face: “The world is getting worse, people’s hearts are not old. Miss Ruan still has to be careful in the future, after all…you are too weak.”

The gangsters: “…???”

- Description from novelbuddy

In alternative reality, what if a young padawan that is a descendant of the great Jedi Master Avar Kriss, helped transform the Jedi Order forever and hook some girls in the mean time.(This novel will have elements of the legends to).

war, blood, and betrayal carved him into something else. A legend. A killer. A mercenary whose name struck fear into both criminals and so-called heroes alike.But now, the world had changed. Lines blurred between right and wrong, between justice and vengeance. Should he step into the light, wear the mask of a hero, and fight for a cause greater than himself? Or should he embrace the darkness that had always been his home, a place where morality was just another illusion?“Don’t box me in with your shallow ideas of good and evil,” he muttered, his voice calm but edged with danger. “I do what I want, when I want.”The air was thick with tension as he moved like a shadow through the dimly lit room. The writer had no time to react—one moment, he was scribbling nonsense about legends and myths; the next, a cold barrel pressed against the back of his head.The figure smirked beneath his mask, eyes gleaming with something between amusement and menace.“You wanna write fiction?” he whispered. “Then let me show you how real legends are made.”A single gunshot shattered the silence.As the writer’s body slumped over the desk, the man holstered his weapon, stepping into the faint glow of a flickering neon light.“It’s that simple,” he said, his voice unwavering. “I’m Deathstroke.”