The Eight Empresses Betrayed Me, Only to Deeply Regret It After Being Reborn - Chapter 8: The Heavenly Pill

[Warning: Mature content R-18 ]My tags: Smart Mc - Harem - Milf Hunter- Op Mc - Cold and cunning Mc - edgy-Op-Mc, NO YURI, smut- romance-massacre.As flames scorched the land and blood painted the soil, a lone figure stood atop a mountain of fallen demigods and chosen apostles, his blade, a masterpiece of folded steel, dripping with the blood of those who dared to invade. The gods had taken everything: his clan, his love, leaving him with nothing but wrath. They had made one critical mistake, however, they had crossed into Makaiyama (魔界山), the sacred mountain of Ryukoku’s most feared legend: the Heavenly Demon.Beyond the veil of space and time, celestial beings gazed in shock. “Impossible…” one god whispered, watching as the Heavenly Demon, armed with nothing but raw skill and a dark aura, felled three divine kin. Rage flared across their ranks as they saw their immortal kin fall to mere mortal swordsmanship, untainted by magic.Even as the Heavenly Demon staggered, weapons lodged deep into his body, he fixed his gaze forward, crimson eyes blazing with defiance. His obsidian katana, blood-soaked, pierced the peak of Makaiyama like a stake driven into the heart of heaven itself. His voice echoed in the darkness between life and death, and there, in the chasm of despair, a metallic whisper resonated:“[Project God Executioner has been activated.]”“[Accept?]” the voice asked.With a heart ablaze, he swore vengeance. He would rise, not as a puppet, but as the gods' executioner.

Everyone thought that the most powerful scientist they had ever seen was a national treasure-level scientist until they saw Baizhi-
The light of technology, a cosmic scientist.

Three thousand worlds are different.

In each world, she is keen on scientific research.

This is a story of a scientific researcher who concentrates on scientific research, explores high-dimensional science in various worlds, and refuses to admit defeat and fate. The text is easy to comprehend, flows smoothly, humorously, and the plot is full of ups and downs, and it is full of positive energy.

- Description from Novelupdates

International negotiator Jiang Fu was framed and died.

Waking up to find himself reborn in the body of a newly engaged female college student.

When confronting his fiancé for the first time, Fu Xiting’s tone was cold and murderous: “If you are obedient, you will keep it. If you are not obedient, you will abandon it.”

Confronting again, Jiang Fu stood in the auditorium of the Capital University to participate in the International Collegiate Debating Competition. Looking at Fu Xiting, who was the referee, she asked in a straight voice, “Mr. Fu, what is marriage to you?”

Fu Xiting replied: “Benefits.”

Rumor has it that Fu Xiting, the prince of the business world, married a charming wife.

Unexpectedly, on the wedding night, his wife held a cold knife to his throat, and her voice was comparable to that of King Yama: “In 2009, Jiang Fu, an international negotiator, and her team went to Dongguo for negotiations, and the plane crashed on the way back. What does it have to do with you?” relation?”

Fu Xiting’s heart trembled. After many days of guessing came true, he looked at Jiang Fu with a bit of helplessness: “My handwriting.”

Before marriage, she was an abandoned child in her hands.

After marriage, she couldn’t give up the medicine.

Rumor has it that the youngest daughter of the Jiang family has no talent.

Jiang Fu:? ? ? How should I act?

[From being indifferent to being obliged to you, the heroine is online, step by step approaching the truth to find the cause of her death]

Conception: Loving yourself is the beginning of being loved

- Description from novelbuddy

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.”