The Obsessive Tycoon Claims the Deserted Heiress - Chapter 40 - 039: Do you think I’m easy to fool?

A blizzard had raged for ten days, with temperatures plummeting to below minus fifty degrees Celsius.Yet, that wasn’t the most terrifying part. The impending disasters of rat plague, extreme heat, drought, acid rain, tornadoes, and other severe weather conditions would follow one after another, each one a veritable hell on earth.Gu Pan was reborn seven days before all these calamities began. At this time, her Space was still with her, her husband was still alive, and she needed to hoard resources like crazy.Food, clothing, shelter, transportation, medicine, weapons, electricity, and all other essentials of life—she had to stockpile enough for the next lifetime.What? The ‘friend’ who had betrayed them in the previous life was also reborn? And they had hoarded a warehouse full of supplies, even more than them? No more nonsense, just take it all into her Space.After the apocalypse began, she and her husband kicked off a spree of zero-cost acquisition.In this life, they would take revenge on their enemies and settle all scores. Those who had hurt them would be repaid double.

Everyone has friends in their lives, right?They can be anyone—good friends, bad friends, or even... friends with benefits.Ahem!Anyway, the point is, everyone has friends. And so did I.I was friends with author of web novel.Yeah, was.A small argument over how the main character should act in novel of [World’s Greatest Hero] led to a fight with my friend, the author.Still frustrated, I stormed out of his house... and that’s when Truck-kun hit me.But that wasn’t the worst part.The worst part? I woke up in a different body—the body of a side character in my friend’s novel.A character who is supposed to die in the prologue.[Your body is dying!][You don’t have much time left.][The creator of this world is mocking you.]F#ck you, Author.F#ck this novel.I will survive, and when I do—I'll beat you to a pulp!

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.”