My starting summon is a small skeleton - Chapter 13 - 0 Black Iron Quality Summoned Beast

What the hell is this? What the hell happened here?

New book “President Fu, The Reborn Sweet Wife Is Online” seeking collection~“What does it feel like?” Her hand was tightly gripped by him and pressed against his cold, sharp, handsome face. “I mean the face.”After being reborn, she turned over a new leaf and clung tightly to her fiancé, refusing to let go. The two of them worked together to crush the scum, scattering dog food everywhere.Rongcheng's Mr. Gu, the most powerful, prestigious, and aloof man, held only her in the palm of his hand. After marriage, her biggest distress was: how to deal with a husband who is too doting and too clingy!

At the beginning, he became the most famous prodigal in America. Facing the danger of going bankrupt, how could Chen William turn the corner and become a big shot in the fame and fortune circle?

- Description from novelbuddy

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.”