Raising My Children With My Personal Spatial Ability - Chapter 1837 - - It Wouldn’t Be Fun Anymore

After getting betrayed and killed by the only person she’d loved, Miss Shang wakes up in the body of the cowardly crown prince Shang Wuxin, who, due to her own circumstances, was actually a girl cross-dressing as a boy. After inheriting the crown prince’s memories, Shang Wuxin has three things on her agenda:

1. Clean up the house

2. Gather loyal followers and soldiers

3. Get the throne

James Ye is a son-in-law everyone looks down upon, but no one knows his true identity is that of a young master from a top family.Those who scorn him will ultimately kneel before him, calling him 'Master' in awe and fear!

The Night Killer was a notorious serial killer with an indestructible reputation transcending across all nations, targeting corrupted nobles and their subordinates. His resilient ambitions to exterminate the monarchy and destabilize the relations between the nobility and its monarch made him do unspeakable things, going as far as to bed the Queen with the aim of controlling the royal court.

Due to his 'carelessness', he was ultimately arrested and brought to kneel among the people, ending his bloody reign of terror.

Having foreseen his inevitable doom, he had made preparations in advance. He had ordered his closest companion to end his life on the day of his execution.

Having been reborn into the body of Ren Ye, he was met with the presence of an adorable little girl in his life, calling out Papa whenever she sees him and giving kisses on his cheeks.

Likewise, a system was awakened inside of him, and evil transmigrators ascended on Earth, threatening the safety of him and his beloved.

Follow along his journey from a callous and ruthless murderer to becoming a warm and loving father to his daughter, while fighting off evil forces and keeping Earth a peaceful place for his family to live.

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.”