Transmigration: The Fate of the Villainess - Chapter 230 - 230 Bai Yu never considered herself a smart woman Part IV

Aizel has been depressed since he was a young man. From being tormented in school to being treated as an outcast solely because he is an antisocial person, the only things that kept him going were novels, manga, piano, and sword practice.He never anticipated being transferred to another world while drunk by the side of a lake under the moon. The world with mana is filled with superpowers, magic, and monsters, and he is unsure whether he is dreaming or not.Only to discover later that he possesses a power that may be called the most deadliest thing he could have ever imagined, but with limitations and drawbacks...“All of the kingdoms, magic, and everything about Xelgar fascinate me. But what Alora said makes me very curious.”“I knew I could easily use sword skills, fire skills, and techniques because I had seen and read so many anime and novels. I still can't believe that there is now a unique power as well.”“Is it true that I possess the power of imagination, as Alora claims? Isn't that a little overpowering? However, I was still unable to use some techniques and skills in the fights. The power has a disadvantage and a limitation.”“Is that because of my cracked core? If I can somehow recover it, will I be able to do anything just by imagining?”

It is well known that while most Evil Skills can be mastered quickly, they are accompanied by immense side effects. A slight misstep and you could drive yourself insane or get yourself killed.But what if the side effects could be transferred to your enemies? How exhilarating would it be to cultivate Evil Skills then?In any case, Zou Feng, who transmigrated here, is already having the time of his life.The most evil, most venomous, and most morally corrupt Cultivation Skills? Bring them all on.This Poison Skill will make your entire body fester and become unrecognizable? Cultivate it!Cultivating this Skill will cause you to lose your sanity and become worse than a beast? Cultivate it!A Cultivation Skill that ensures you won't live for more than a year upon mastery? Cultivate it!

{MATURE — The female lead, Elara, is a plus-size lady. This isn't a book about her losing weight or going on a weight-loss journey. This is a book where she embraces her size and loves herself after everything.}BILLIONAIRE/WEREWOLFI was born a maid in the pack, unwanted, unloved, and unseen. They said I was the daughter of a servant and that I should be grateful to even breathe the same air as elites. But what no one knew was that I wasn’t who they thought I was. I was stolen from my destiny, stripped of my name, and buried in a life that was never mine.When I finished school, I was given a job at Blueberries Pack Company. It was already falling apart, but I worked day and night to keep it alive. Still, nothing I did mattered. The Alpha’s precious daughter stole my ideas, my recognition, and even the man I thought I loved. I was used to silence, to being unseen, until he appeared.Darlon. The Alpha King. A name spoken with fear and awe. They said he was old, heartless, and cruel. I didn’t know him, and I never imagined our paths would cross. But when the Alpha and his Luna grew desperate to save their company, they forced me to marry him in their daughter’s place.I walked down that aisle expecting the worst…But what awaited me on the other side was nothing I could have ever imagined.I didn’t know it then, but the man I had married wasn’t a stranger at all… He was my fated mateAnd through him, I began to uncover the truth about my past, my bloodline, and the power that had been sleeping inside me all along.

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.”