Mr. Ye's Wife is Sassy and Flirtatious - Chapter 17 - : Who Is Ms. Rong?

James Ye is a son-in-law everyone looks down upon, but no one knows his true identity is that of a young master from a top family.Those who scorn him will ultimately kneel before him, calling him 'Master' in awe and fear!

In a world where omegas are at the top of the social hierarchy, Lee Jiyeon, a female chef from the 21st century, finds herself transmigrated into the body of a poor Alpha girl in a world ruled by omegaverse dynamics.Upon awakening, Jiyeon discovers she has not only inherited the Alpha body but also a marriage contract with the tyrant Yura, making matters more complicated.In this new world, Jiyeon's culinary skills are not just a passion but a valuable asset. She gains a Culinary System that helps her rise from rags to riches.

Kim Taejune, wanted to be a “hero,” a “savior” to all the weak. After reading books about them, he too wanted to be one. Yet he lacked power, he didn't have any skills, and the command system everyone else had but one day, his dream will come true. His path leads him to encounter Yoon Harin a woman who after the death of her twin younger brother Yoon Jiho was transmigrated into his novel, “Calamity Hunter” the “god” of this world makes a deal with Yoon Harin to bring her brother back to life IF she can survive as a savior till the end.

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.”