Erotic RPG: I am in the Game world, But My Heroines are Villainesses - Chapter 277 First Story Event 6

After transmigrating to the wasteland and surviving some crises, Qu Jianlei is forced to be injected with unknown gene medicine, which by chance opens the gate to cultivation for him...

In the aftermath of a tragic incident, the soul of Zhang Fei was transmigrated into a sacred body in a world of cultivation. Joined by the consciousness of an ancient cultivator, Zhang Fei must find a way to survive in this deadly world of beast demons and immortal cultivators.

Li Yao, a retired assassin, woke up one day to find herself transmigrated to ancient times and became a famous shrew far and wide.

With hands on her hips, she wailed loudly. Villagers called her the bane of ghosts, and even dogs would circle around when they saw her.

She had four children, her husband had passed away, and it was a disastrous year, leaving them poor as church mice.

Fortunately, River Bay Village was nestled against a big mountain, with wild chickens, wild boars, wolves, tigers, herbs, spices, corn, sweet potatoes, potatoes… it seemed to have everything.

Rely on the water to eat, and rely on the mountain.

With her skills that exceeded the times, Yao Li quickly became the wealthiest person in River Bay Village.

She was determined to stick to her original aspirations – retire and live out her remaining years in peace.

But as a widow, there were many things at her doorstep.

Her maiden family coveted her wealth; local ruffians lusted after her beauty; the magistrate admired her talents; the prefect wanted to rely on her to build up his political achievements; the scholar admired her literary talent; the chancellor respected her breadth of knowledge…

Wave after wave, wearing down her doorstep.

Even a Prince was amazed by her, finding all kinds of excuses to frequently visit and neglect his palaces.

Li Yao adapted to the circumstances, sparring back and forth, just wishing her retirement life would remain undisturbed.

But unknowingly, the world was changing because of her.

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.”