Quick Transmigration: The Villainess Is a Sweetheart - Chapter 29

(Immortal Cultivation+Meeting a Perfect Match+Shura Field+Invincible Flow+Upgrade Flow+Playing the Pig and Eating the Tiger)—What is cultivation? When I think back to the past, cultivation was, as a baby, kicking my legs over and over again—kicking on the bed, kicking on the ground, kicking every single day. Cultivation was, as I grew older, swinging my sword again and again—slashing here, cutting there. Cultivation became, as I matured, the repeated harmony of yin and yang—busy tonight, and busy again tomorrow night. … My name is Xu Ming. I have never cared about the stipends given to me by those sect masters, noble ladies, or princesses.I said to her, “Can you give me a room closer to yours? I need to report my work to you at any moment.” Even if I accomplish nothing every day, I just want to watch how she cultivates. I…

[After choosing to farm, I turned the cannon fodder female partner into a winner in life]

With the life support system, Xu Yin penetrated into the world of thousands of novels that she had complained about, and all of them ended miserably, and were the best cannon fodder for the heroine to serve as the control group in the beginning.

Xu·Fo’s small farming expert·Yin: …Hold on! It’s okay to lie down with salted fish, just don’t get involved in the plot!

Hang on, and become a winner in life.

Small world ① 80 best sister-in-law: stay away from the best, farm and make a fortune;

Small World ② Select and farm as an elite female matchmaker: If you are an elite, you can farm to strengthen the country;

Small World ③ The oil bottle of reorganizing the family: Goodbye step-sister! Return to your hometown to farm!

Small World ④ World Champion’s Ex-Girlfriend~

Small World ⑤ The control group of the Almighty Actress~

…

More small worlds are being produced…

- Description from novelbuddy

I was proposed to by the Final Boss.

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.”