Arcane Exfil - Chapter 34: Interview (1)

Lin Chuyi, after meticulously selecting for three years, chose a high-quality boyfriend, only to be cheated on a month into the relationship. She decisively broke up with him and immediately took the place of the Ye Family's daughter, marrying the heir of a wealthy family, Sheng Tingyuan.She planned to leave gracefully when the Ye Family's real daughter returned.Sheng Tingyuan blocked her path, “You lied to me and now you want to run away?”Lin Chuyi, “Don't you hate it the most when people lie to you? Should I not run and wait for you to deal with me?”Sheng Tingyuan pressed her into a corner, “You're not 'other people,' wife.”

Have you been targeted?Maybe, since you’ve been in his range all along.What else can you do but prepare yourself to be killed?

“He is the Xiang Qichen that I fell for at first sight and can’t forget.”......Zhou Huaiyi's pink journal recorded unspeakable longing for her crush.Until one day, her crush accidentally opened this journal.Crush: “Your mom's future son-in-law, with the surname Xiang?”Zhou Huaiyi stiffly clung to the last bit of stubbornness: “Ah... why... why not, huh?”The Crush chuckled softly, his deep voice like a spring breeze: “Your future son will also have the surname Xiang.”Zhou Huaiyi looked at him weakly: “You? My son?”The Crush, with a half-smile: “Do you need some discipline?”Zhou Huaiyi: “...”—My affection for you has never wavered.Optimistic and cheerful fangirl VS Gentle and reserved idol male godSweet romanceSoul exchange

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.”