I Became the Narrow-Eyed Character in the Little Prince Game - Chapter 1: Gallimar ()

In her past life, she trusted the wrong people—and betrayed the one man who loved her most. Blinded by lies, she pushed her fiancé into ruin. Yet even as the world turned against him, he forgave her. And in the end, he slaughtered all her enemies… before using the final blade to follow her into death.Now reborn, she swears to rewrite her fate.This time, she tears apart the fake innocents, crushes the traitors, and rises in brilliance—only for one purpose: to win back the heart of the man she once destroyed.But little does she know…He never truly left.From the shadows, he has already laid his trap, created a world where she can only fall—back into his arms.A love once buried in blood and regret will now reignite amidst vengeance, redemption, and fate's cruel game.

The gong has loved the shou for a long time already but he does not dare to confess his feelings. Without any better option, he joined forces with a system to kidnap the shou, dragging him through many quick transmigration world in an attempt to capture him. Afterwards…

Shou: This bed partner is very good. Can develop into a long term bed partner.

Gong: Why is it just a bed partner? Let’s agree to love each other!

Ye Jun Ge: Did you take your medicine?

System 004: …QAQ

- Description from Novelupdates

How good would it be to live in a game world you loved the most… right after your death?Well, that’s exactly what happened to César in the worst way possible.While fighting cancer on his deathbed, he played a game where he could live as a cartel member, part of the mafia, building his own empire and climbing to the top. But when the time came and he died… he woke up in that exact game.He woke up in Sandria, a world ruled by power, money, and death.

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.”