The Heiress Carrying His Heir - Chapter 48 - 49: Before Dawn

An 18-year-old poor college student tried to apply for a job as a tutor but his life almost ended as demons' meal. In his last breath, a mysterious woman gave him a strange power. When he opened his eyes he had turned into a demon with a system that would turn him into… A pervert.

Now he must lived with his dual identity as a model student named Ethan and an incubus named Damian.

Qiao Mei transmigrated into a novel as a supporting character with the same name as her who lacked presence. This supporting character was a country bumpkin who couldn’t get married due to her obesity. According to the original script, this country girl Qiao Mei was a fatty spoiled by her grandfather. However, their relatives were all vicious and cruel people. Her grandfather had poor health, so once he died, the relatives would divide and swallow up his assets. Hence, her grandfather’s greatest wish was to marry Qiao Mei off. For this, even sacrificed and betrayed his good friend’s grandson, Xia Zhe. Grandpa got Xia Zhe drunk and had Qiao Mei forcibly take the strong and handsome Xia Zhe with her body which weighed more than two hundred pounds. Then, grandpa would catch them the next day and force Xia Zhe to marry Qiao Mei. However, that eventually caused the start of Qiao Mei’s unfortunate life.

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.”