MTL - One Useless Rebirth - Chapter 64 Surprise

She was born into an affluent family, but she was swapped at birth and got a different life.She grew up in a village. Just as she got the opportunity to transform her life, it got taken from her, and she was forced into a marriage to trade for a marriage for her mentally-challenged big brother.In the end, she died tragically.Gu Yan thought that if she could be reborn, she would make those who had bullied and insulted her regret everything!After being reborn with a superpower, her life became quite different.“With both the medical skill and the superpower, wastrels, shiver for me!”“Also you, handsome boy, I saved your life; shouldn’t you pledge to marry me?”Lu Ye smiled naughtily. “Of course. Just tell me, Yanyan, how many times do you want me to pledge per night?”

As childhood sweethearts, they were made to engage under the manipulations of their families. It involved having to to live in the same room and sleep together.

One night, she is accidentally made drunk, and in his delirium, he kisses her only to realize he enjoys it. From time to time, he would sneak a kiss on her, but his “crime” is eventually discovered in an accident. After being accused by her, he says with a smile, “You are my wife, why can’t I kiss you?”

The two people’s daily routine is full of bickering and mutual discrediting of each other.

Although he claims to disparage, he actually cares intensely about her. He feels crazily jealous when she is close to other men, to the point of tying her to his side, so that she becomes exclusively his.

- Description from web

Lucia grew up not knowing she was a princess.

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.”