Broken Oath: I Left, He Regretted - Chapter 28: The Dutiful Husband

They took everything from him...His name, his home, and even his money.Beaten, betrayed, thrown and abandoned like trash.Ryan is left with nothing.But in a world where power is the only law, the powerless don’t just survive… they hunt.The weak don’t beg for mercy.They return with a knife...[Ding!][You have awakened 'The Villain System']And this was his knife.-------------Discord: https://discord.gg/CXs4Wz9aad

Due to her family's worsening financial situation and the need to pay off her late father's debts, Isabella Quinn was forced to agree to a marriage proposal offered by Juliana Brown, to marry her son, Hunter William Brown, who had disabilities including paralysis and impotence.At that time, she had a boyfriend, Joe Fernando. However, she convinced Joe that the marriage was only temporary and that one day they would be together again.But when the marriage took place, Isabella was shocked to discover that Hunter was not as afflicted as she had thought.This fact left her feeling trapped, confused, and lacking the courage to tell either Joe or Juliana.What did she find out? Was it something that could make her fall in love with Hunter? Or the opposite? And what about Joe, who remained loyal while waiting for her?

Lin Wanwan is a pitiful mentally-disabled girl. Not only does she suffer abuse from her stepmother, her stepmother even attempts to use her as a sexual commodity to pleasure others. Eventually, the poor Wanwan dies from an overdose…

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.”