My Ex Broke My Heart, But I'm A Hundred Billion Financial Stock God - Chapter 100 - Royal Cannon Salute Like This_1

What if you have power that decides the faith of the world?Neo is not your typical boy. he was super handsome but still a virgin. Can you believe that? It's like having powers but don't know how to use it

Time flew by. Even though their graduation was a long time ago, after countless nights and passing through fleeting time, their story is still circulated around the quiet campus of University G. This story has many different versions, but there is one thing that everyone knows to be true. Back then, that ordinary girl betrayed the genius of the fine arts faculty and yet, his love for her still remained. For her, he nearly died in a fire. For her, he gave up his chance to study abroad. Years later when they meet again, he is successful with a new girlfriend in his arms and she is indifferent with a light and clear smile. However, unknown to anyone, her longing had begun long ago and even now flooded her thoughts…

- Description from Novelupdates

A smug smile appeared on her step sister's lips when she finally revealed she was actually pregnant with her mate's child.Her father's futile attempt to apologize, for ignoring her all this time, because he had his own reasons and asked her to understand.A plea of forgiveness from her mate as he begged her not to reject him, claiming it was just a stupid mistake that he shouldn't have made.And to top it off, a cursed alpha from the north, to whom her step sister was actually promised, is here to collect his debt, so she has to take her place as the sacrifice now.Darn!

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.”