Runaway Wife: Please, Have Another Baby! - Chapter 72 - 73 Underestimated Her 4

Junpei Takeda, a high school student, is childhood friends with Noriko Tatsumiya and is bullied by Kido Shouta. One day, while bullying Junpei, they (Junpei, Tatsumiya, & Shouta) were suddenly summoned to a different world by the whim of “God”. Summoned Heroes with cheats, or so he thought. But it turns out Junpei’s stats were even worse than an average farmer. Tricked into a deathly labyrinth by the only one he trust, he walks the journey for revenge.

Step inside if you dare, but be warned—this is no ordinary shop. Those who enter never leave the same… if they leave at all. A sinister force lurks within, fueled by a dark past and a thirst for revenge. The price? Twelve lives for twelve sins. As officials race to put an end to the bloodshed, the shop’s deadly grip tightens, claiming innocent victims one by one. Will anyone uncover the truth before it's too late? If you crave spine-tingling horror, heart-pounding thrills, and a mystery that refuses to stay buried, this book will haunt you long after the last page.

After an accidental electrocution, Zhang Yi realized he could hide his body and become an invisible man. That incident marked a new chapter in his life. The magnificent president of the company, the hot policewoman, and the mischievous daughter of a rich man.“Apologies. I'm a righteous man. I've never abused my power of turning invisible to creep on beautiful girls, because I'd only stand boldly before them to look at them! You can't see me. You can't see me. You can't see me…”

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.”