Shadow and Light: The Bride Who Clicks Her Way to Love - Chapter 388 - 401: Does Weakness Make You Right?

[From the Author of Author's POV...]

Emotions are like a drug to us.

The more we experience them, the more we become addicted.

The hardest part is not letting them consume us.

But it's already too late for me.

I've already been swallowed whole.

***

I had no knowledge of the game.

I was meant to have died.

And yet, I found myself in this situation.

A game I had never played before. A character I was unfamiliar with, and... A world that seemed to want to swallow me whole with every move I made.

What the hell is going on?

...and who am I?

……………………………………………………………

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Lu Sheng, who transmigrates to the Star Sea Era, unexpectedly acquires an attribute panel capable of solidifying every single advancement he makes.In this perilous world filled with alien gods, immortals, Mechanical Ascenders, and more, Lu Sheng relies on himself to progress from mortal flesh to the singular True Self.Years later...Lu Sheng flying across the universe, gazes upon the endless darkness at the edge of the cosmos, where a colossal being as vast as the Milky Way Galaxy—once recorded in mythologies of Blue Star—resides.He speaks faintly, “You might be the most formidable Galactic Life Form I’ve ever encountered. Calling you a god wouldn’t be unjustified.”“Yet it’s a pity, for I have already established the foundation of the Great Dao and forged the singular True Self. Henceforth... you may call me the Martial God!”

Ercella lived a glorious life everyone envied, but died of an illness at a young age.

Before her death, she regretted not having become a proper mother to her son.

But somehow, she went back three years ago.

Ercella is living her second life.

I promise to be a loving mother this time.

However, is it too late?

“Now that you’re doing this, you’re just making me feel uncomfortable.”

The son only pushes her away and she realises that her relationship with the husband, who she thought was fine before her regression, wasn’t actually…

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.”