The Novel's Extra - Chapter 11. Change (1)

Ntr Yes！R18 Yes！Justin and his wife Betty seemed to embody the perfect life, yet beneath their polished exterior, dark secrets loomed that threatened everything they cherished.While Justin was deeply engaged in the fight against social injustice, Betty was consumed by loneliness and neglect, leading her into a forbidden affair with a mysterious stranger.As Justin's relentless investigation neared the core of the truth, he faced not only significant risks to his career but also the ultimate betrayal within his marriage.Driven by his quest for the truth, Justin unraveled one mystery after another, each clue drawing him deeper into Betty's secretive world, until he uncovered a devastating truth that could destroy them both...

Her ex-boyfriend was snatched by her step-sister. Not only that, she accidentally lost her virginity to him due to her step-sister’s schemes.She was nearly confined to her home until he came along. He rescued her from that nightmarish place, if that place can even be called a “home.”He, dashing and powerful, seems to have everything. Yet he suffers from an odd illness where he feels nauseated whenever a woman is within three meters of him. She, however, is an exception. From that fateful day on, their paths cross. He strives to win her heart, and she, too, starts to develop feelings for him.But as the story unfolds between the two, her ex-boyfriend’s growing mixed feelings and the appearance of his fiancée threaten to put an end to the budding love between them…

Gu Shishi, a master of traditional Chinese painting, transmigrated into the role of a cannon fodder in a cliché novel.

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.”