Tempting Fate - Chapter 144

Reborn as a sister of a villain with no blood or tears in a war-fiction novel. Anyway, that guy, who plays ‘my brother’ role, is a villain who will be sealed by the Main Lead after losing the war. So I just need to pretend to be his little sister until he disappears. No, at least that’s how I think … ‘Something in your right hand, is that the main lead’s head?’ My brother won the war. *** “What’s with the suitcase?” “Yes?” At the tip of Dietrich’s long finger, there was a package that I had wrapped up as soon as he left for the battlefield. “I asked what it is.” “It’s, It’s a travel bag, brother.” “Travel? Alone?” Dietrich’s dark eyes glistened. The man who had just returned from victory had a strange smell of blood from mu*der. “Will you leave me?”

I transmigrated to the Great Qin empire to find myself a famous good-for-nothing in Ye Manor and the subject of ridicule of everyone. But thankfully, my dantian is the planet Earth.

When the Earthlings cultivate and comprehend anything, it will also turn into my own cultivation and comprehension. Each time one more Earthling reaches First Honor Inborn Level, I’d be able to add on the strength of an First Honor Inborn Level to my own strength.

There are 1.4 billion people on this Earth. I’ve hit jackpot.

This is the story of a young slave gladiator in an underground arena. He doesn’t know about his past or how he got to where he is, only that his name is Aegir, and that he is strong.

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.”