I can rewind time to prevent death - Chapter 609 - 386 Open Your Eyes (Part 2)_3

What does it feel like to be a cannon fodder in your novel?

After ruining countless of his novels with sh*t endings,

Gu Yan who finally received his retribution understood.

Heaven spared no one.

In order to protect his small life, Gu Yan has been sent to diligently clean up his own mess.

However, never did he expect that his ‘clean up’ would be too thorough.

Seeing that the man who was suppose to have killed him kneel down on one knee and take out a ring while saying to him, “Marry me.”

Gu Yan: “…”

- Description from Novelupdates

In the wizard world, the mysterious magic cube gave Lin Suo the ability to fuse all things.However, sometimes the recipe was a bit strange. The Evil God would shake his head when he looked at it.Horse corpse x 2 + stone + wood + clay + tent cloth = Double Horse Chariot.Octopus corpse + flower of enlightenment + black goat corpse = octopus flower with black hair?Skeleton + Bloodthirsty Vine + Vampire Eyeball = Thorny Creature Eyeball???Lin Suo: As long as there are corpses in the recipe, it will definitely make the Evil God frown.

I was thrown into a novel that hasn’t even been completed yet (and turned into a girl…), guided by the omnipresent voice of the unreasonable, amateur Author as he writes the web novel. I have no idea what’s going on, so I have to stick close to the main character to make sure I don’t hit a bad end…Why are you treating only me like this!I’m not suspicious, believe me.I’m a harmless person.“A villain? Not at all.”

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.”