Insanely Pampered Wife: Divine Doctor Fifth Young Miss - Chapter 2293: Teasing Master

“Any who don the title of 'king' or anything of the sort in my presence is nothing more than an ignorant fool. This is my land and I shall be reclaiming it soon. I am Cacophony, the Vampire Empress!”As those words left her lips, every cell in my body reacted. It was unreal—no, it was otherworldly. Her beauty, her power, and her overwhelming arrogance. It might've been then that I realized that my normal life had ended.How did it come to this?Ah, it was curiosity. Yes, a deathly curiosity brought me to that graveyard that day.It was there that I stumbled upon her coffin. I had absolutely no clue what I was doing then, and even now I have no idea what possessed me to touch it—that single moment changed the course of history for the entire world. I found myself delving into a completely unknown world.Should I regret it? Maybe. But the truth is, I don't.Exploring the world’s hidden secrets, forging unexpected bonds, and living alongside the revived empress—it’s exciting.“Even if it's wrong, I think I'm going to enjoy every moment of it.”

Qin Yi used to think that cultivation was all about a peaceful mind and the indifference towards fame and wealth. He is ready to abandon all mortal desires and enjoy eternal solitude when he later realizes that he is a human after all, and on the lonely cultivation path, he could really use the warmth of another pair of arms…

Of his companions, the prince wants to rebuild his kingdom; the princess is looking forward to her heroic life; the priestess needs to experience the secular world; the “dumb snake” could use a confidence boost; and his “clubbie” wants a human form.

But would everyone get what they wanted?

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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.”