The Prince's Fiancee is a Spatial Farm Girl - Chapter 52 - I Want to Give Him a Gift

The world changed the day that cracks appeared in the sky– suddenly monsters named『Demonic Beasts』appeared and began to rampage, attacking people.

Meanwhile, girls called『Magical Girls』began to appear to counter the demonic beasts. As they defeated the demonic beasts, gradually people’s lives gained a semblance of composure.

–but when there is light, there is also darkness.

In the corner of an alleyway, a boy who had been attacked by a demonic beast was dying. His voice begging for help did not reach anyone and his body refused to move.

「Boy. Do you want to be saved?」

Looking into the boy’s face, a black cat began to speak to him.

The boy nodded firmly to the devilishly sweet invitation, in response the black cat mocked him.

「Is that so—then I’ll【Haunt (Save)】you」

—on that day, a『Magical Girl』was born in a place that no-one knew.

『She』never laments, no matter what the future may bring.

In the expansive expanse of existence, there exist realms concealed from the awareness of ordinary folk.Rain Weathers, an unremarkable teenager with average looks, physique, and grades, was leading an uneventful life.However, everything took a dramatic turn one fateful day when he found himself plunged into a vivid dream, a dream that unveiled a world beyond imagination — a world teeming with spirits, monsters, and conversing frogs.This was the Spirit Realm.Transformed into a player by the mysterious machinations of the universe, Rain, alongside other chosen individuals, found themselves thrust into a perilous world.They were tasked with navigating their newfound domain, establishing their territories, all while fending off relentless onslaughts from beasts, defending their territories from other races, and making sure to stay alive for another day.

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.”

He praised her, “Wifey, you are a genius!”