The Royal Contract - Chapter 1345: To ensure that the shoe fit

[Congratulations Seo Hoyun! You have been selected as a player in the Unknown Idol Tycoon.]The good-for-nothing PD, who is criticized by everyone, becomes a unknown idol in a parallel world.Only his younger sibling remembers him.To return to the original world, he must become a top idol and clear the game!“…Quest accepted.”“Are you crazy?”“Don’t we need to eat and live?”His specialty is blackmailing, his hobby is persuasion.The survival story of the unscrupulous PD-turned-idol who will stop at nothing!

I found myself in a parallel universe, awakening as a male priest. Everything seemed perfect; after all, as a healer, specializing in aiding women should pose no issue, right? However, I couldn’t help but wonder about some peculiar spells in my repertoire.

Firstly, what in the world is the “Instantaneous Outbreak of Acute Gastroenteritis” spell? And don’t even get me started on the “Osteoporosis” spell. What purpose could these serve in my healing endeavors? The confusion only deepened with spells like “Blood Burn,” “Gradual Freeze,” and “Mental Chaos.” Can I still peacefully focus on healing women with such ominous abilities?

Comparing my spells to those of other professions, I couldn’t help but notice the stark contrast. Mages wield “Doomstorm” and “Ice Age,” swordsmen boast “Sword Rain: Homecoming” and “Wind-Cutter Slash,” while archers showcase “Arrow Rain: Shooting Stars” and “Storm Arrow.” Yet, my ultimate spells are disturbingly named “Cancer Cell Proliferation,” “T-Virus Infection,” and “Rabies Outbreak.”

In the midst of it all, a certain character, some crying girl, laments, “Noooo, I just took a bath, who would have thought that I would become infected!”

Meanwhile, a villain chillingly asks, “Do any of you know what it feels like to burst apart while spouting blood? No! You don’t know!”

Even a boss character confesses, “Dear family, who can understand? I just took a nap, and when I woke up, I suddenly found that I have no kidneys!”

Yu Fei was sabotaged by her peers at a celebratory gala. They pushed her into a hotel room, but it turned out to be the wrong one! The four men who were hired ended up waiting for nothing the entire night. Meanwhile, Yu Fei found herself crossing paths with the noblest and most dangerous man in Nan City!

Ever since then, the cold Mr. Feng began pampering his wife endlessly. She liked making movies, and so he casually invested several hundred million. He’d let her become an internationally acclaimed director and celebrity if that’s what she wanted!

“I, Feng Yi, want to pamper this woman. Does anybody have a problem with that?” Mr. Feng asked.

One day, a reporter asked him this question. “Mr. Feng, what do you do when you get home each day?”

“I spend time with my wife,” he answered.

“Are you showing your affection for her?” The audience thought out loud.

“Mr. Feng, what’s your hobby?” The reporter asked.

“Spending time with my wife,” he answered.

“That’s impossible… Absolutely impossible!” The audience exclaimed.

“Mr. Feng, what is most important to you?” The reporter asked.

“Spending time with my wife,” he answered.

“Do you think you’re the only person with a wife?” The audience asked.

The bigshot, who was rumored to be a cold and merciless man, actually loved his wife to pieces. His greatest hobby was to pamper his wife in every way imaginable!

Dear readers! Fresh green style, maybe you will like it more in .

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.”