I Became a Scoundrel of a Chaebol Family - Chapter 117

Su Jianan was marrying the love of her life. It all seemed picture-perfect, except for a few catches. One, it was a marriage of convenience. Two, she would be divorced after two years.

Various monsters came out from mysterious gates that appeared all over the world. Along with this incident, humans also gained power and were called hunters.

Radmilo Laiv is a hunter with the power to control time. He spent his life serving the world government and becoming a hero. However, he was killed because his power was considered a threat to the government.

It was a stroke of luck that Radmilo could return to the past because of his powers. In this life, he doesn’t want to be a hero anymore. Should he play the evil role and become a villain?

~Mature Content~A guy living his boring life as he play games on his pc. He loves to play erotics and adult games, and one day because of some random draw or something he was chosen as ‘Beta Player/Tester’ for the game.without any hesitation in his mind he sign the form he got in his email and in few days he got the VR Capsule for the beta testing.Of couse he didn’t have to pay for anything, and will get the chance to play an adult game first time in a VR.[You have Entered the Game!][Please Enter Your Login Details!]-Username: *******--Password : *******-[Thank You For Login!]-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-[All the characters in the novel that will appear will all be of the age of 18 or above]

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.”