Giant Dragon Lord: Starting from Daily Intelligence - Chapter 68: Visitors from Red Leaf Territory

Wen Xuxu is a tenacious, talented, smart and brave woman who was fostered by the Yan family at the age of four when she lost both her parents.

Brought up to be the successor of a huge conglomerate, Yan Rusheng is an aloof, intelligent and arrogant man who is the most sought-after bachelor in the capital city.

Despite growing up together, both of them seem to treat each other as an eyesore. She labels him as a jerk and womanizer while in his eyes, she is a shrew.

Over time, they fall for each other, but they continue to conceal their feelings for each other. By a twist of fate, they are forced into a marriage. And unknown to everyone else and Yan Rusheng, she has harbored a deep secret for many years…

- Description from Novelupdates

I got sucked into a novel full of villains and must tame them in order to survive!

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.”