The Female Assassin Pretends to Be a Lamb in the Campus - Chapter 430: Rebellion

The strongest Demon Lord dies, and reincarnates as a human. Not only that, he because of various incidents turns into the hero’s best friend.

Follow his journey as he tries to help the hero escape his fate, and on the sideline to conquer the continent while he’s at it.

(Apocalypse Farming, Sweet Pet 1V1) As soon as she opened her eyes, Su Shu found herself reborn two months before the Apocalypse. Before her rebirth, a certain man watched over her and protected her for three years, almost going as far as dragging her home to swallow her whole. After her rebirth, not only did she have to raise her adorable genius niece, but she also had to take care of a wolfish husband. This Apocalypse was a bit different! The pitiful her from her previous life now not only had a heaven-defying space, but also blood-related family, and on top of that, the indulgent spoiling of Tang Dashao, who sprinkled dog food without restraint. Su Shu thought, even if the heavens required her to reset and start over once again, it wouldn't matter. She would just meet Buddha, kill Buddha; meet a ghost, kill a ghost!

Become famous as early as possible, make money as early as possible, and enjoy the joy of life in America with both fame and fortune.

America, Hollywood, business war, entertainment, celebrities and movies.

- 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.”