Regressed with Omnipotent AI on Zombie Apocalypse - Chapter 166: Ancient Virus

# COZY # OMNIPOTENT # CHIEFASSISTANT

In her past life, Mo Ruyue was a top-notch assassin. She was as indifferent as an abyss, and had killed more people than she had fingers to count. In her new life, she became the vicious stepmother of five munchkins in a remote mountain valley, and they were terrified of her. In this life, she decided to change the way she lived. She only had four bare walls for a house? Her children starved to the point they were just skin and bones? No problem. She could kill wild boars with her bare hands, so food wasn’t an issue. She was also proficient in multiplication tables, and her kids instantly became big fans of hers. It had been a difficult journey to change from a vicious stepmother to a warm one. Then, her supposedly dead husband suddenly returned, now the first minister of the dynasty.“Let’s divorce. Give me the children, and I’ll return the money to you.” “I don’t lack anything, just you and the children.”

There was a popular comic that captured the hearts of readers not because of its plot, but rather the bromance between the two protagonists, a crown prince and a duke. Their friendship & mutual trust led fans to ship them endlessly, with countless fanfiction stories ranging from dating to marriage or even incorporating omegaverse settings.One particular m-preg fanfic novel became extremely popular among fans, where the previously cold duke becomes pregnant.But the popularity of both the original comic and this novel caused everything to become unbalanced, until something strange happened - these works of fiction turn into real worlds that collided, creating an error that connected them together.In the world of the comic:Carlton from the fanfic world gazed up at his husband with longing eyes. “Husband...” He pouted, “Why don't you kiss me today?”Alaric from the comic world recoiled slightly and goosebumps broke out over his skin as he moved away. “Please don't come close to me...” He said tersely.Meanwhile, in another world:Alaric from the fanfic world, pulled his beloved Carlton into a warm embrace and peppered kisses on his cheeks. “Darling, are you mad at me?” Alaric asked affectionately. “It's okay, you're still cute.” He leaned down to whisper into his ear before continuing. “But don't forget to comfort all our children, they think you're mad at them.”Suddenly, seven children barged into the room and called out to their fathers. “Father, Daddy!” they exclaimed.Carlton's frozen expression spoke volumes about his state of mind as he tried to process what was happening. His murderous gaze fixed on Alaric as he muttered through gritted teeth. “Whose children do you say they are....?”

The 7-year-old little crybaby met 11-year-old big brother who ran away from home.
[This man became the protector of redemption in his life]

The 16-year-old little dragon fell in love with a 20-year-old big brother.
[It’s a pity that the big brother didn’t recognize him as the little crybaby]

The 23-year-old single father and 27-year-old chief executive meets again.
[This time the little crybaby and his big brother are finally together]

Fortunately we met through hundreds of millions of people, Thank God, for letting us break through many obstacles and get back together again, falling in love with you and being with you again is the greatest fortune in my life.

- 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.”