Reborn Heiress: Taking Back What Is Rightfully Hers! - Chapter 186: A Turn of Events

so, reincarnation huh?“a lot of good... a lot of bad... balanced karma.” “good news you get one boon to bring with you to the next life. unfortunately for you though, you don't get to choose. totally random. ready?”join Apollo in his new life where through sheer luck (good or bad?) is raised by an all hungry, all dominant and all loving hivemind who will burn the galaxy just to see him smile.

In the peaceful Ning City, the Shen family had two lovely daughters. The elder Miss Shen, Shen Ru, was smart and capable, while the second Miss Shen, Shen Yan, was charming and beautiful.

One day, a third daughter, Shen Wan, appeared.

Shen Wan was quiet and unremarkable. She looked weak and helpless.

Mr. Shen said, “Let her stay.”

Mrs. Shen said, “A daughter born to a lowly woman is still lowly.”

Shen Ru said, “She’s too plain and simple.”

Shen Yan said, “Brother Qi dislikes unattractive things the most.”

Shen Wan coldly smiled and thought, Don’t worry, take it easy. None of you can escape!’

–

In her past life, Shen Wan lost all her blood, her organs were hollowed out, and she died on a cold operating table.

She lived thirty years without having any children.

In this life, she came for revenge. She carefully planned every step and turned Ning City upside down. But inadvertently, she drew the attention of a demon king.

The people respectfully called Quan Hanting “Lord Six”. He was cold and heartless, and his identity was a mystery.

[Little Cute Bundle]

“I heard that when I was born, Papa was in so much pain that he almost died. Yeah, Mama bit him!”

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Hyperthymesia. Those with this condition can remember every detail of their lives from something as significant as the world’s turning point to something as small and as insignificant as a minor fleeting thought. They cannot forget and their thirst for knowledge allows them to be considered genius in some senses.

Legend has it that Ji Yushi was this kind of genius.

In addition, it was said that he was gay and very beautiful.

As soon as the news that he was going to support Tianqiong’s seventh squad broke out, it sent everyone buzzing.

Everyone knew that the captain of the seventh squad, Song Qinglan, was a hoodlum and deeply homophobic.

He not only relied on his super-powerful abilities to become the dark horse on the battlefield in less than two years, but he also hates it when those at the top forces a flower vase* into his squad.

Sure enough, Song Qinglan announced in front of everyone, “Useful? Us brothers are going out there working ourselves to the bone, we don’t need a little genius who can only speedread quantum waves!”

Later.

The squad was forced into a dire situation during their mission.

That beautiful little genius calmly continued, every gunfire hitting the mark, his fighting power peaking.

Song Qinglan begged in front of everyone, “Adviser Ji, stay.”

In the end, he added, “I’ll work myself to the bone for you.”

*****

Ji Yushi had a secret.

He would often be awake at night, suffering from memory overload and recurring nightmares.

There was only one thing that could let him fall asleep peacefully.

And that was Song Qinglan.

*Flower vase: Someone who only looks pretty but can’t amount to much

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.”