I Am A Prodigy - Chapter 787: Finals!

After discovering about her wealthy husband’s affair, she humiliates the adulterous pair on the streets and divorces him the very next morning. Just as everyone anticipates her downfall, she goes on to marry the most brilliant bachelor in the nation whom her unfaithful former husband cannot hold a candle to!

“Aren’t your mother’s legs always hurting? It hasn’t gotten any better despite seeking help from various doctors.”
“How did you know that?”
“Not only do I know why her legs hurt, I can also treat her condition.”
“As long as you can treat my mother, I’ll give you anything you want.”
“I want money.”

After An Xiaoning uses her psychic powers to break the curse of a poltergeist, she earns herself a fortune as well as a perfect man of her dreams.

Don’t be daunted by her psychic powers, for this book isn’t terrifying at all!

- Description from Novelupdates

The world was hit by an abnormal narcolepsy, and there was a mass coma. Lee-joonhyuk was transferred to a dimensional battle field as he fell into an abnormal narcoleptic sleep. This is the story of him as he starts as a minion.

He had served in the strongest Special Forces, Heavenly Sword Special Force. As the commando of commandos, he created the Netherworld in the western underground world and became the formidable Oriental Yama. He said, “I’m Liu Feng. I’m adept at two things: killing and saving. If I want to cure someone, even ghost soldiers can’t take him away; if I want to kill someone, God can’t save him.” Now he was the bodyguard of Yang Shiwen, who was the daughter of the richest family in Donghai City and suffered from a rare disease. Could Liu Feng save Yang Shiwen’s life with his amazing art of healing? What would happen to his double life?

- Description from Novelupdates

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.”