Fated love: the unwanted bride - Chapter 79 - 0: Will you sell me again?

The Night Killer was a notorious serial killer with an indestructible reputation transcending across all nations, targeting corrupted nobles and their subordinates. His resilient ambitions to exterminate the monarchy and destabilize the relations between the nobility and its monarch made him do unspeakable things, going as far as to bed the Queen with the aim of controlling the royal court.

Due to his 'carelessness', he was ultimately arrested and brought to kneel among the people, ending his bloody reign of terror.

Having foreseen his inevitable doom, he had made preparations in advance. He had ordered his closest companion to end his life on the day of his execution.

Having been reborn into the body of Ren Ye, he was met with the presence of an adorable little girl in his life, calling out Papa whenever she sees him and giving kisses on his cheeks.

Likewise, a system was awakened inside of him, and evil transmigrators ascended on Earth, threatening the safety of him and his beloved.

Follow along his journey from a callous and ruthless murderer to becoming a warm and loving father to his daughter, while fighting off evil forces and keeping Earth a peaceful place for his family to live.

Estaria, the Goddess of creation and eradication. The daughter of the God of destruction and the Goddess of life. Her father has been dead ever since she was born, and her mother disappeared without leaving a trace. In desperate times, as she grew old, she decided to bring her father back to life. But she had no idea where her father was. So, with nothing else to use, she thought of just recreating him through reincarnation. But the reincarnation process needed a woman whose body was strong enough to host the reincarnated vessel. With no options left, she crafted smaller deities using her own fresh and blood. Many of them failed. But one whom she named Nanako succeeded bearing a child she then named Hajime. Yet Hajime wasn't exactly what she expected. Because he possessed dual souls from two different people who died simultaneously in another world. But she was unaware of them due to one of the souls having fragments of his memories from when he was still alive in his past life. The other soul had completely forgotten everything, but bit by bit as the individual called Hajime journeys this new world, the memories of the other soul would start to retain giving him split personalities.

[Detecting the birth of a new god... Data traction in progress][Alert! Intrusion detected: %*#... Data traction interrupted][Divine Revelation Protocol activated. Initiating emergency replication. The Legion of Judges has been dispatched...][1%... 5%... 33%... 99%][Replication complete!][Rebooting and reconstructing the world...]…Becoming a god feels like a grand deception.Instead of ascending to the heavens, you awaken inside a mere clay idol.You have become a god—yet only the weakest, most nameless one.You don't even have a body of your own.[Detecting host awakening... Binding process initiated][Binding complete. Initial gift pack activated. Congratulations, host! You have obtained the talent: Tribute Hundredfold Amplification!][A believer offers you a pebble. You receive a Holy Crystal!][A believer offers you a wooden stick. You receive the Spear of Longinus!][A believer offers you a harmonica. You receive the Archangel’s Trumpet!]Good.”From this moment forth, the gods shall heed my command. Who stands with me, and who dares oppose?“Seated deep within the sacred temple, you gaze upon the vast cosmos at your feet, looking over the myriad realms with serene indifference.

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.”