Snowstorm: I'm Super Rich in the Apocalypse - Chapter 378: Ambushed on the Road

For eight years, Cecilia Moore was the perfect Luna, loyal, and unmarked.Until the day she found her Alpha mate with a younger, purebred she-wolf in his bed.In a world ruled by bloodlines and mating bonds, Cecilia was always the outsider.But now, she's done playing by wolf rules.She smiles as she hands Xavier the quarterly financials-divorce papers clipped neatly beneath the final page.“You're angry?” he growls.“Angry enough to commit murder,” she replies, voice cold as frost.A silent war brews under the roof they once called home.Xavier thinks he still holds the power-but Cecilia has already begun her quiet rebellion.With every cold glance and calculated step,she's preparing to disappear from his world-as the mate he never deserved.And when he finally understands the strength of the heart he broke...It may be far too late to win it back.

After dying, I woke up as a weak goblin.

To survive, I have to destroy, consume, and evolve off of other monsters.

From the ugly guy to the king who rules everything!

Second novel by Author before EER

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.”

Tachikawa Shin always thought he was a decent, upright man—unfortunately, he’d been saddled with an indecent favorability system.Raise others’ affection to grow stronger?“I’d rather stay away from these witches, but this concerns my safety and physical integrity... Well, it seems I don’t have a choice,” Tachikawa Shin said righteously, with absolutely no perversion whatsoever.All hail the Rizzler!