The Author Reincarnated As An Extra - Chapter 4: • The Marked Children

In the most popular 3D keyboard online game “Tomorrow”, an ordinary player, Zhang Zhiyin has a less common hobby–that is to visit Dr. Y, the ultimate boss – giving him gifts and hugs.

Mauve Grey is finally getting the treatment she has always wished for, her father even openly calls her his daughter. Could life get any better?However, she knows it is for all the wrong reasons. She is finally useful, no longer just seen as the sin of the king, a lustful night with her as a constant reminder, especially to the queen who can't stand her.As if getting married off isn't bad enough, she is getting married to the evil vampire king. The species that have put them in jeopardy many times over.However, she has no say in the matter as this forced union is a sign that humans and vampires were truly at peace. However, Jael is ruthless and proved to be more than she ever imagined.Will she survive the vampire world considering vampires think humans to be no better than animals? Will she hold out being the Vampire King's new play toy?

I transmigrated into the gacha game I abandoned for 10 years.But, the state of the heroes I raised is strange.

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.”