Imperial Commander: His Pretty Wife Is Spoiled Rotten - Chapter 1661 - I Will Not Forgive You

In a world where Classes, Stats, and Levels are the everyday norm, Reivyn has a secret.He was unusually aware of his surroundings from an incredibly early age, and Skills and Stats were acquired easily. He was just the son of an ordinary village family, and nothing appeared out of the ordinary on the surface. But below the surface, dreams of another life help shape his mentality and growth. Why does he have some remembrance of a past life, and what is his purpose in this new one?“Soul of the Warrior” is what I call a Semi-Isekai LitRPG. I say “semi,” because Reivyn's past life is remembered like a dream, and very incomplete. It is still Isekai, though, as he remembers enough that it directly shapes his personality and his sense of self.The System that governs the world of “Soul of the Warrior” is a combination of modified versions from Selkie's “Beneath the Dragoneye Moons” and Kosnik4's “Magic Smithing.” I have changed enough of these Systems and combined them in a way that is unique that I'm mostly sure it's fine, but I still have requested permission to use these ideas. They have both graciously granted me permission.Winner of the April Writathon Challenge.

Miss Jing in the eyes of Miss Chi: Nouveau riche
Miss Chi in the eyes of Miss Jing: a woman who worships money
After an accident, the way they looked at each other began to change…
The love story of two women who dislike honesty over time (日 is a verb)

Early in the morning, in a hotel, the big bed in the presidential suite…
Chi Jia got dressed: “Jing Rui, even if all the men and women all over the world die, I won’t fall for you!”
Jing Rui: “please Miss Chi remember what she said and don’t come to me again in the future.”

The next day, early in the morning, in a hotel, the big bed in the presidential suite…
Chi Jia got dressed, “I warn you this is the last time!”
Jing Rui: “Miss Chi, I don’t want a next time either.”

A few days later, the two met in a bar.
Jing Rui: “Have you brought your ID card?”
Chi Jia: “Bring…”

Main CP: Fried hair and greedy little designer X sexy and rich restaurant owner
Deputy CP: Huan Tuo Infatuated Design Director X Wen Wan Ke Ren Yu Jie President

[Pit entry instructions or lightning protection]
1. The main and deputy CPs are all doing first and then loving, simple and rude, don’t enter if you don’t like it; HE, don’t tear down the CP;
2. Unrealistic, light-hearted and sweet essays (the kind where the president has a lot of time to fall in love), the plot is sultry and colorful; the industry description is non-professional, sorry;
3. There is a straight-forward plot, but there is no reason to choose a woman after being hurt by a man. Loving someone has nothing to do with gender, that’s all;

Content tags: urban love, happy friends, sweet text
Search keywords: protagonist: Chi Jia; Jing Rui ┃ supporting role: Ning Qian; Wen Jin; Yun Xin; Jian Yi

- Description from novelbuddy

The Revered Master, Yu Yan, known as the number one in the cultivation world, waited for sixteen thousand years, and finally took in a disciple. He taught her carefully, and took care of her diligently. He watched her as she slowly grew stronger as she comprehended the laws, and just as she was about to soar into prominence… she died!

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.”