The Female Lead Has No Cheats - Chapter 240: Bad impression (1)

Xiang Ye (Ah Ye) and Charles have the fated arrangement of master and servant. In the depths of darkness, Ah Ye scooped up Charles – a vampire butler. Possessing a fervid passion for service, Charles single-mindedly attends to the secretive young master Ah Ye – regardless of his ferocious appetite, abhorrent taste in clothing, and relationship failings – for the master is always right.

On the other hand, in the chaotic era of scientifically enhanced humans, powerful heroes become the protectors of normal citizens, going where evil needs subduing. This young master may be secretive, but he is our hero.

Rael, once a teenager crippled by social anxiety, is reincarnated 1,553 years into the future after reading a book about Milford, the legendary God of Machima—a man who commanded armies of Steelborn, Machnoids, and Autonoms across the universe. Gifted with the Machima Bloodline and guided by Dominica, the World Domination System, Rael quickly rises to become the strongest World Conqueror.He first saw them on the book’s cover—steel women with lifelike faces, beasts with razor limbs, and looming above them all, a god in robes with a mechanical hand raised high. Coiled over him were a gigantic centipede and serpent of metal, guardians of his legend. Now, deep in a junkyard centuries later, Rael forges his own path. His first creation: an unbreakable fortress born in the dirt, a hulking Steelborn Tortoise with a mind sharper than any AI—crafted by Rael’s divine talent. From admiring Milford and wishing to be like him, Rael now marches forward to leave his own mark on the universe.Join him as he rises in rank across his world—and beyond.

I possessed a third-rate villain who died in every route of my favorite game.

But I want to live.

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.”