The Cursed Prince's Strange Bride - Chapter 397 "Thanks To His Help."

Su Xiaoxiu failed the college entrance exam and was admitted to a private university instead. Looking at the expensive tuition bill, her whole family was worried about how to pay for it. Should she take a gap year and retake the exam?

Just then, she suddenly got a progress system that gave her money every time she walked somewhere?! Looking at the large amount of money in the system, she was determined to improve herself and contribute something useful to society.

A Group Chat with all the Anime Girls you love!Our MC can go to their world.No NTR, Dark MC, Just pure fun read and slightly ecchi fanfic.

Zixin dies from Qi Deviation and an Earthling transmigrates into his body, the Earthling then accepts his new identity as Xong Zixin and embarks on a new journey of cultivation.Zixin later discovers that he actually has a System called Attack Catching System which like its name suggests, captures and stores attack from people who attack him.…[Ding! 1002 punches from a Core Condensing Realm have been captured successfully!][Ding! Qi Deviation has been successfully captured!][Ding! Soul Possession Attack has been captured unsuccessfully.],...Follow Zixin on his unparalleled journey to the peak of martial arts, releasing saved attacks on his enemies and competency obliterating them.

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.”