Side Character Transmigrations: The Final Boss is No Joke - Chapter 751: I'm The Landlord (27)

What happens when you run really low on luck and get intimately entangled with a perfect on the outside and ruthless on the inside man? Well, sparks fly but not the kind you imagine in cute fluffy love stories.

Already an orphan, Xia Xi Jin has been struggling through these past years to make a bare minimum living. She is a struggling writer who seems to have a careless attitude towards life and a dirty appearance. However, after a one-night stand with President Xi Mu Tian everything changes.

Being forced into a marriage Xi Jin tries to adapt to her new life, new friends and begins to unravel the mysteries of her past and that of her husband. Can love bloom in this penned down marriage of convenience. Read to know!

- Description from Novelupdates

I have clairvoyance, and I can see antique treasures no matter where they are hidden. Is there anything else in the world that I can’t go to?

- Description from novelbuddy

Leon, a man who tragically died of exhaustion due to his sister's otome game, unexpectedly finds himself reincarnated as a young aristocrat named Leon Bartfort. However, he soon realizes that he is not alone in this body. Another mysterious entity already resides there, its voice echoing in his mind.Who is this second consciousness? Is it a friend, an enemy, or something far more sinister? Will they be able to come to an agreement to share control over the body, or will a fierce struggle for dominance ensue? Or perhaps their interactions will lead to unforeseen consequences?Intrigued? Then start reading!

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.”