Reincarnation of the Strongest Healer - Chapter 810: Participants

Neptune in One Piece, Tail Beast in Naruto, Fate’s Fantasy Species, Gourmet Captive Cuisine.
This is a dimension restaurant opened in Marvel, connected to dimension world, welcome you to taste the deliciousness of world.

- Description from Uukanshu

[1V1 Shuangjie, entertainment circle, face slapping, cute baby, sweet pet cool article + chasing wife]

The almighty movie queen Ye Zhen Zhen transmigrated into the book’s cannon fodder female supporting role and vicious stepmother, her husband was rich but had a bad relationship, and her stepson was cute but ignored her.

According to the plot of the original book, her cannon fodder female supporting role is about to face a miserable end…

Ye Zhen Zhen thought, even though she is wearing a book, she is afraid that these paper figurines will fail!

Facing the cold words of the plastic husband.

She replied: How can you, a big man with a body temperature of 37 degrees, say such cold and heartless words to his wife?

Facing the unreasonable troubles from the stepson’s classmate’s mother, “Ye Zhen Zhen, you have to apologize to me.”

She sneered disdainfully: “I apologize to you, you kneel down and listen?”

Relying on her excellent professional skills, she turned her life around in the parent-child variety show with her baby, and became popular overnight, with constant drama appointments!

The stepson who didn’t know her very well and called her “auntie”: “My mother Ye Zhenzhen is the most gentle and beautiful mother in the world!”

Black fan: So what if you are beautiful, you married a bad old man for money!

One day, the plastic husband appeared at a charity party and introduced himself: “Hello everyone, I am Ye Zhenzhen’s husband, the rumored bad old man.”

Everyone in the audience couldn’t believe it: the handsome and wealthy CEO of Media Asia Group is Ye Zhenzhen’s husband?

Black fan: The slap in the face really hurts! ! !

- Description from novelbuddy

Lucian Bowcott only wanted a quiet life. He met up with old friends, made a wish, and died after one drink.Now, he awakens inside a coffin—summoned by the Half-Dead Queen of Atraeum and surrounded by restless souls.Armed with the Death Grimoire, Lucian must embalm corpses, repair brittle bones, and help the dead find peace… before something ancient finds him.As his powers grow, so do the whispers in the dark. If he wants to survive, Lucian must unravel the Queen’s grief, discover why a mortician hasn’t been summoned in over a century, and confront the entities haunting his every step.A/N: It doesn't deal with dungeons, Lucian's system is a magical book, and he slowly unlocks powers to help him with his next assignment. He travels to different places around Atraeum, and in the future, another kingdom.This is a character-driven gothic isekai about an introvert learning that sometimes, peace is more than just embalming a body and preparing it for a funeral. He's more of an undead therapist now

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.”