I Am The Landlord In Another World - Chapter 72

In her previous life, Wen Ning was imprisoned beside Pei You and became his caged bird, bird in his palm,

Every day is not planning to escape or is on the way to escape,

In the end, he broke off his wings and died in depression.

After living a new life, Wen Ning decided to hide her identity and her temperament.

Acrimonious, short-sighted, stupid and ignorant…

The key is to love him so much.

All in all, he could do as much as he hated her.

Sure enough, Pei You in this life hated her so much that she shunned her.

Seeing her makes me want to wash my eyes.

Wen Ning is physically and mentally at ease, and can finally choose a husband with peace of mind.

On the day when the news of Wen Ning’s engagement spread throughout the city, she ran into Pei You unexpectedly.

Wen Ning decided to stand on the last post and perform the last play, hugging Pei You’s thigh and crying:

“Wow, my lord, my little girl doesn’t want to marry. Oh, my lord, the sky can learn from the sky and the moon and the sun and the moon can show my sincerity, my lord, my lord, if I don’t change my infatuation in this life, I will not marry you!”

In Wen Ning’s script, at this moment, Pei You should be ruthless and leave without giving her a single look.

But he didn’t want him to stand still, and when she was about to stop acting, he bent down slowly, and wiped away the tears in the corners of her eyes with his warm fingertips. From his eyes to his voice, there was a change from the cold charm of the past: “If that’s the case, how about marrying me?”

Wen Ning: “…………………???”

- Description from novelbuddy

Alex was just another ordinary gamer—until the day he died. Struck down by a terminal illness, he found solace in his favorite game, a vast fantasy RPG filled with powerful warriors, intricate politics, and world-shaking events. But before he could see the game's ending, fate had other plans.When he opens his eyes again, he’s no longer Alex from Earth. Instead, he’s Alex Dragonheart, a nameless extra in the very game he once played. Not a protagonist. Not even a villain. Just an unknown side character who was fated to die early, forgotten by history.Armed with only half of the game’s knowledge, an unawakened bloodline, and a mysterious sealed skill, Alex is thrown into a brutal world where strength is everything. His beloved younger sister is sick and needs treatment, but his past self had been powerless to save her. Not anymore.Determined to rewrite his fate, Alex will rise through the ranks, manipulate events from the shadows, and seize power that was never meant for him. If fate refuses to acknowledge him, then he’ll carve his own legend—one that even the gods will fear.After all, in a world where only the strong survive, even an extra can become a nightmare.( Okay guys just because there is a system tag does not mean he will get everything handed to him he will have to work hard to attain power because I will make it so )

A man dies and for some mysterious reason is given three wishes.The man, a pervert and even degenerate (just a little), asked to be sent to a world full of sex and lust, just for pure fun, unfortunately he was not very specific and ended up going to a world much bigger than he could imagine.His other wish was the System he read in one of the many stories he read, the System of [The Gamer], which due to various reasons, perhaps due to laziness of the person who created it, the System is not 100% identical.But this didn't affect our protagonist much, who had the opportunity to create his own appearance and decided for nothing less than a hot Futanari with a big dick!

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.”