Belle Adams' Butler - Chapter 11: Night we sit through

A high school boy meets an unfortunate end by a well-meaning but bureaucratically incompetent god. As an apology for his accidental demise, the god offers him reincarnation in a fantasy world—complete with a powerful cheat to ensure his survival. However, due to a small clerical error, our protagonist is reborn as a girl!Determined to make the most of her new life, she boldly declares, “Give me the strongest weapon imaginable!”—only to be granted… a harem of overly devoted female soulmates?!Now, stuck in a medieval world filled with magic, monsters, and gorgeous women vying for her affection, she must navigate her bizarre fate while somehow becoming the legendary hero she was meant to be.Will she ever find a way back to her original body? Can she survive this world without succumbing to yuri-fueled chaos? And most importantly… does love truly conquer all?!One thing’s for sure—her adventure is about to be way more complicated than she expected.

Rogers Darren is a smoker, drinker, liar, lothario, gold-digger, rule-breaker.At a brutal Marine HQ hearing, Darren faces accusations of scandalous wages, stolen Germa tech, suspicious Celestial Dragon deaths, and a few too many questionable entanglements with nobles-just another day for the greatest disgrace in Marine history.Biting his cigar, Darren simply grins: “I smoke, I drink, I lust for money and women, I crave power, I lie, and I break every rule... but I'm a damn good Marine.”Silence fell like a dropped anchor.(￣□￣；) (ーー゛) (￣o￣)

After assisting the man she loves with all her heart to the throne, Li Wanrou dies miserably in the cold palace, her dead body wrapped in a broken mat and thrown into the disorderly funeral hillock.

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.”