Wedding Night: I Am Forced To Marry A Dragon Girl - Chapter 1822: No, no, it’s too overwhelming!

A cold and homophobic top matched with a person he hated on a dating app, and discovered that the other was even more clingy than he thought!

The King Of Assassins was a monster that reigned over the world of hitmen for long years. He was the absolute peak that no other being could reach. His name reached the ears of every powerhouse in the world and sent shivers through every human.

Yet, his legend came to an end suddenly when he died in unknown circumstances.

However, instead of disappearing forever, he was given another chance in another world by the goddess of reincarnation. It was the world of an old book that he read back in the time. A world where everything was possible, where humans could reach new heights that were impossible in his old life.

But, this place didn't seem to be normal as it carried a huge surprise that will make his journey seem all the more interesting.

The Goddess of reincarnation wasn't as holy as anyone would think. She was nothing but a twisted being who found a toy to play with. The goddess manipulated the world that he was going to and changed all the heroines into these twisted beings that fit her character. They were all now harboring this unhealthy obsession toward him and trying with all their powers to take him away for themselves.

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.

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.”