Perfect Pampered Marriage: Good Morning, Hubby - Chapter 605 - : Oh My God, Is She Dead??

Wang Jin found a beautiful drunk mixed-race boy on the side of the road. He looked pretty at night and couldn’t help bringing him home and sleeping with him. When he woke up the next day, he found out that the beauty was a minor.

This is the story of two people who met by chance, their lives turning from narcissism and selfishness to falling in love with each other’s trivialities.

- Description from Novelupdates

Lucien, a guy who has nothing but the desire to save his mother. To get strong enough, he makes a contract with the demon of L.u.s.t. And now, only by making a great harem, will he gain the power to protect those dear to him.

Skyfire Avenue is a street that is 2048 meters long. There are 168 stores here, and each of the store owners is an extremely powerful adept. The Avenue does not permit any vehicles or any robots to pass through it, much less mecha. Even the patrolling police must move about on foot. This is because this is a street for pedestrians, a lane for nobles, hidden away within this high technology world. Lan Jue, the greatest of the mercenaries, code-named ‘Zeus’, has secluded himself here in Skyfire Avenue after the death of his wife. The name of his shop is “Zeus’ Jewelry Store”, and here in Skyfire Avenue, he has been given the title, Jewel Master.

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.”