The Personal Bodyguard of the Female CEO - Chapter 10 - 0 Broken Sword

Yohan wakes up ten years in the past, back when he still lived with his uncle and hadn’t yet lost his parents’ massage parlour. With a strange book filled with wellness techniques in his hands, he decides to live differently this time—more aware, more purposeful, and maybe even more fulfilled.

So, apparently I'm Albedo now...And to make things worse, I'm in the Marvel universe, which one exactly, I've got no fucking clue.Fuck man! Why do I have to be in the body of a inverted person! Do you know how attention drawing white hair and red eyes look like in the real world?! It's been like what, the 4th person who asked me if they were natural?!...I gotta dye this shit black, like my original hair was...

She faked a name to survive. She never meant to steal three Alphas hearts.Charis Greye was born to be a pawn—engaged to the Alpha King’s son and abused by the very man who called himself her father.But on the night she finally breaks, she vanishes—erasing her past and assuming a new identity as Eamon Riggs, a supposed son of an Alpha accepted into Ravenshore Academy.The catch?Ravenshore doesn’t admit outsiders. And it definitely doesn’t admit girls.Now, trapped in a school built for the deadliest young Alphas in the Kingdom, Charis must keep her identity hidden while navigating a dangerous world of shifting alliances, academy secrets and the brutal revenge of a SCORNED HUMAN, WOMAN!!!As if that wasn’t enough…three Alphas are watching her closely.One is her vengeful ex-mate.One is a ruthless strategist hunting lies.One is a charming playboy who is dying and might need her to survive.But Charis carries a mark that could destroy them all—one that could reshape their world or burn it down.The wrong mateThe wrong name.The wrong Alphas.And if she chooses wrong again… it won’t just be her heart that breaks.

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.”