My Femboy System - Chapter 54: Ashes and Anesthesia

Abigail, a bipolar disorder patient, wrote a crazy BL novel with herself as the main villain. She vented all her negative emotions, killing characters through the villain she created.Alas, she died of a pill overdose before writing the ending.When she opened her eyes, she was surrounded by the characters she created in the novel! Ordinary people would be frightened to death, but Abigail, a mental patient of an extreme case, rubbed her hands and decided to torture them all at once! How exciting!Except for one, the evil CEO she had her character marry in her novel. He was her eye candy, despite how rudely he treated her.Her everyday schedule (if she wasn't torturing someone) included: Getting up, seducing her husband in the shower, seducing her husband while eating, seducing her husband while working, seducing her husband everywhere from their home to work, seducing her husband to sleep, and somehow, even seducing him in his dreams!It went on like that until he couldn't hold it anymore.***Asher said frustratedly, “Why didn't the author mention me in the synopsis?! Am I not eligible to be with Abigail?!”Owen added calmly, “You're not alone, my friend. I even entered the scene after 60 chapters.”

Starting life as a college student is hard, but not as hard as dying on your very first day. Ali Asad was just your average guy, ready to start fresh in a new city for college. But when he jumped into traffic to save a mysterious woman, his good deed got him killed—fast and painfully. Just when he thought it was game over, he woke up alive... sort of. Turns out, the woman he saved, Carrisa, had a few tricks up her sleeve. Now resurrected as an immortal being and renamed Alicarde, he’s thrust into a world of ancient power struggles, dark magic, and impossible expectations. Bound to Carrisa’s fate, Alicarde quickly learns that being immortal isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. Instead of focusing on classes or meeting new friends, he’s dodging dangerous foes, navigating Carrisa’s high-stakes supernatural battles, and trying to figure out just what his role is in all this madness. All while struggling with the fact that he really didn’t sign up for any of this. Thrown into a fight for survival with powers he barely understands and a fate that’s now intertwined with Carrisa’s, Alicarde has to adapt fast—or risk dying all over again, this time for good.

“Even if this universe is truly nothing more than a brutal bloody shadowy forest, we Cultivators will burn all that we have just to give off a single weak flickering spark in the darkness!

No matter how weak each spark is, how short-lived, how small… As long as the sparks flow unabated, then one day one of those sparks will light some tinder, and that tinder shall light some fallen branches, and those branches shall set ablaze each and every last tree of the forest!

In the end, even the smallest sparks will eventually set the shadowy forest ablaze, and illuminate the whole world!”

In a world teeming with cultivators, Li Yao, who makes his living collecting scrap metal, encounters the soul of a titan powerhouse from forty thousand years in the past.

- Description from novelupdates

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.”