Rebirth of the Villainous Female Boss - Chapter 442 - 416: Can’t Avoid It (Thanks to Water Feather Clear Alliance Leader for +3 updates)

The world’s top ten conglomerates had joined forces to create a programme where the crew had quietly evacuated all the people from a city, leaving behind only Raymond and his family, who were kept in the dark. Their purpose was to see this child, who had emerged from the slums of America, get humiliated.

The Dayan Dynasty lasted for more than 1,300 years.

The emperor is critically ill, the crown prince is in charge of the country, the local fairy gates are entrenched, and the central government is in chaos.

wake up,

Xu Yuan saw the ruined temple on a rainy night deep in the mountains,

I saw the strange broken-arm stone Buddha,

as well as,

The woman in black wearing tulle next to the campfire.

…

…

He became the third son of the final boss, the direct descendant of the villain with a clean life background and good roots.

The fake villain is just waiting to be slapped in the face, while the real villain is fled all over the world by a big ice lump as soon as he comes up.

Goldfinger?

False villains only rely on golden fingers to make a fortune, while real villains dare to face the bleak life!

“The sky did not give birth to me, Xu Changtian, and the villain is like a long night forever.”

“…”

“Father, save me!”

- Description from novelbuddy

At a young age, I became a thousand-year-old bastard.

Ding! Congratulations to the host, you have obtained the phagocytosis synthesis evolution system.

An earth dragon was found in front, devouring synthetic evolution, the earth dragon tortoise.

From then on, my wonderful career began…

- 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.”