Destroying My Own Novel - Chapter 18

Shen and Ming, two top wealthy families, have married.

As the object of marriage, Professor Ming is obsessed with scientific research, education, and psychological construction and can’t extricate himself. He really has no relationship with the big devil Shen Tinglan!

The two of them don’t even bother to play every scene, and Ming Qianye thinks about being annulled by the Great Demon King all the time!

However, relying on the exorbitant looks, talents and abilities of both parties, CP fans come here uninvited, looking forward to their interaction every day, begging for dog food to fit together, and trying hard to find evidence of their love…

Professor Ming finally couldn’t take it anymore and sent a message to showdown with the big devil——

【Senior, I actually just want to have a fake relationship with you! 】

The Great Demon King: 【Call me husband, I will have a real relationship with you. 】

Professor Ming frowned: 【I don’t want to fall in love! 】

The big devil called directly: “What’s the matter? I just donated the laboratory and the teaching building, and last night I said that I performed well, but the next day I turned my face and refused to recognize anyone? Have you learned how to cheat money and sex?”

Professor Ming was shocked: “I didn’t, I… am participating in the show…”

Followed by ‘Duddu…’

That phone is hung up!

The audience in the live broadcast room exploded:

【Did the words just now come from the mouth of Mr. Shen, who is so handsome? 】

【How did Great Demon King Shen behave last night? Is it the color I thought it was? 】

【Can you describe the details? We don’t lack this traffic! ! ! 】

When I woke up, I found myself inside a spaceship.

I guess you guys think I’m talking nonsense here, but I also have absolutely no clue about what exactly happened to me.

I was really close to completely losing it, but fortunately, I managed to notice that this place was really similar to the world featured in a game I was playing recently.

Am I dreaming? Nope, it’s no dream. Maybe I actually got sent to a different world or something?

But didn’t those things usually involve getting sent to a magical world with elves, dwarves, dragons and whatnot?

In any case, I don’t know what caused this, but I guess I’ll just have to suck it up and live properly in this world from now on.

It’ll be okay. I got my trusty spaceship so I can probably make some money. It’ll work out! It has to!

This is the story of a man abruptly thrown into space along with his private spaceship. He runs around with it and saves damsels in distress along the way, flirts with said damsels, earns money as a merc-for-hire and uses his gaming knowledge to work his way into living freely and easily.

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.”

I’m an imperial uncle; his imperial majesty’s uncle.

Once, someone with nothing better to do took a comprehensive survey of the current dynasty, and summed up the imperial court’s three great cancers.

Wang Qin leads in corruption; the treasury is never full.

Yun Tang favours a few, forming cabals; leading to corruption in our politics.

Prince Huai plays with power, and serves as the head of a hundred poisons — thus causing instability to the throne.

When they talk about the most venomous of vipers, the wicked one who plays with power, the biggest cancer of them all, they’re talking about me: this insignificant prince, Prince Huai, Chengjun.

I can only say that I feel rather hapless in the face of these theories.

In truth, I have been ever dutiful, ever devoted, devoid of intention to monopolise power, and possess even less of a heart to covet the throne. In the entire imperial court, I dare say there is no loyal subject more loyal than I.

But, most tragically, in all the realm, the matter of my being a loyal subject is something that not many would believe.

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