The Villainess Reverses the Hourglass - Chapter 281 - Extra Story III: A Wicked Woman Is A Wicked Woman Forever, Part IV

Hoo hoo hoo, the Director has fallen! (crying)Don't... don't rush to call an ambulance, just help me up first!After staying up late playing games, Fang Ye woke up to find himself transformed into the director of a rundown zoo, having a docile and perceptive Amur tiger, a ferocious and haughty silver fox, a gray wolf that enjoyed showing off its relationship...As the zoo developed, its array of charming animals began to attract visitors from all over the world.“Why do all the animals like me?” Faced with the curious questioning of children, Fang Ye looked up at a 45-degree angle into the sky, speaking in a tone that was deep and mysterious, “It all started on a breezy and sunny evening...”

“The Shadowx, the name of a warrior who does not have any elemental powers.Fighting those who stand in his way, his goal is still ambiguous. But, the light will be shed on it later after.”“A world which is led by elements, an era in whom humanity took control of the elements which are 4 main elements (Flame, Frost, Shock, Terra).”“A threat known as the dark powers came to destroy this empire of elements which is held by the strongest 3 elemental warriors, The Emperors.”“Even me, I am a warrior named Radiant. Time shall come to reveal everything, EVEN...ME.”

Sherlock is a new generation Dungeon Lord whose ambition is to become the greatest Devil King and building up the greatest Dungeon in the Underworld.

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.”