Kiss Me Goodnight, Mrs. CEO! - Chapter 1799 - 1800 where is this place?

In a world where six once-allied nations now stand divided, the kingdom of Myralis, a symbol of self-sacrifice, has fallen into oblivion. Centuries after its mysterious downfall, Caelum, the last disciple of a forgotten deity, embarks on a perilous journey to restore his nation's honor.Guided by the enigmatic teachings of his vanished mentor and armed with the legendary Seal of Abnegation, Caelum must navigate treacherous politics and face champions from rival kingdoms in a deadly tournament that will decide the fate of the world.As ancient secrets resurface and alliances crumble, Caelum discovers that every truth hides a lie and every ally could become an enemy. His quest could either unite the Six Nations—or precipitate their destruction.Will he master his heritage and fulfill the prophecy that marks him as Myralis’s savior, or will his choices doom the world to chaos?

She was deceived into marriage, she was used as a nanny for free, and finally she was beaten to death by her adoptive mother in front of her adoptive father’s bed. Shen Mianmian’s miserable life came to an end.

When he opened his eyes, he turned back to the age of fifteen. Shen Mianmian vowed to get rid of the fate of his past life and take care of his vicious cousin and adoptive mother, but he was accidentally brilliant.

The third-to-last scumbag suddenly counterattacked and became the place that the famous universities competed for. The teachers and students of the school were in an uproar…

Others are busy studying, Shen Mianmian is busy doing small business to make money…

Others were preparing for the college entrance examination, but Shen Mianmian bought the two most famous haunted houses in Kyoto in one go… She became an outlier in the eyes of everyone, laughing at her if she bought it with life, but not necessarily with life.

Others were busy looking for jobs after graduation, but the haunted house purchased by Shen Mianmian was expropriated by the government and received a considerable amount of demolition money.

The person who once laughed at her couldn’t help but slapped herself… I asked around where there were still haunted houses for sale.

Shen Mianmian, who originally had to borrow all the tuition fees, took the demolition funds and used the advantages of rebirth to buy a suitable location, built a group rental building, and transformed himself into a fat and oily charter woman in Kyoto…

One day, Shen Mianmian was dragged to the Civil Affairs Bureau just after collecting the rent while carrying a bag of keys.

“Shen Mianmian, what you owe me should be repaid.”

- Description from novelbuddy

In an accident, Zhao Xu had the ability to make various items. Jewellery, antiques, and crafts are all trivial. Sir, would you like to have a unique sports car?

Come to me, Batman Chariot gives you extreme enjoyment! What, do you want Iron Man armor? Sorry, how about I buy it for Megatron as a bodyguard? Carrier groups invade your territory?

Don’t be afraid, the Avengers Sky Carrier will let you know what a domineering side leak is!

Rich people, come on, let your banknotes tremble, our slogan is: “Sows can go up the tree, dreams can come true!”

- Description from fpzw

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.”