Super Supportive - TWENTY-SEVEN: Boater

I got cheated on cheh ~ don't worry I have five men who dote on me .

A stoic man who couldn't string two sentences ? I will make him rap watch me .

A hot and cold tsundere who has a venomous tongue for opposite gender ? I will make him pour honey from his mouth .

A stupid and childish man ? see how he flirts like a womanizer with me .

A gentle scholar , cough he ain't gentle with me on bed

A shy introvert ?see him become a wolf in sheep's clothing .

Su Wan - a thirty years old divorced woman who was cheated on by her husband and step sister , spends a night drinking alcohol all the while watching how her ex husband and step sister makes a joke of themselves .

” ahhh !You bastard ! You slag man you think this old lady won't have a man anymore ???Not only this great aunty will have a man ! I will have five men ! One to sleep ! two to roll and three to pamper !! “

Amidst her alcohol intake she passes out only to find her self transmigrated over to a small village in ancient China and that too on her wedding day with The five Lin brothers !

“It’s true… So why does no one believe me?”Sometimes, I play small pranks, but they’re really just small ones.I’m not the mastermind at all.

I wasn’t hit by a truck, nor was I struck by a thunderbolt, yet here I’m inside Hunter X Hunter world, and I even have a system, but it’s really a weird one, it always gives me these kinds of choices:

【1：Join the Ryuudan. Reward: Magma Fruit.】

【3：Destroy the Ryuudan. Reward: Ice Fruit.】

【2：Ignore the Ryuudan. Reward: Fire Fruit.】

Allan sighed, “The problem is I’m really an indecisive guy…”

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.”