Intergalactic conquest with an AI - Chapter 29: Nest in the ruins (1)

She is the legend of the Heavenly Soul Alliance, the king of mercenaries with a perverse personality, the world’s number one head reward, she closed her eyes unwillingly in a conspiracy, but opened her eyes in the mountain of corpses in another world, when he met her , he knew at a glance that she was the love disaster of his life, he was unwilling to resolve it, and held her in the palm of his hand, and accidentally spoiled her to the sky, shocking the three worlds.

“Your Majesty, it’s too bad. Your Majesty led tens of thousands of soldiers to level the Shuize Empire and smashed the dragon’s Nilin one by one!”

Without raising his head, a certain person said two words softly, “Follow her!”

“Your Majesty, it’s not good again. The empress is too handsome in a golden armored uniform, and she was thrown down by the goddess of Luoshui as a man!”

A certain person with a face full of black lines, gritted his teeth, flew out, grabbed the goddess and threw it back, half-fading the golden armor, hugged the lazy and handsome boy tightly in his arms, and said with a gloomy face, “See clearly before rushing, She’s a woman!”

The Goddess spoke weakly, “I don’t mind her gender, I love her for who she is!”

Someone was murderous, “I don’t mind, she is my woman!”

- Description from novelbuddy

“Whose child is it?” Winston and Yu-jin were once passionately in love, but due to a misunderstanding, they separated. Even now, Winston believes Yu-jin was involved in an affair with his father. After being cruelly abandoned, Yu-jin struggled to survive alone while raising his daughter, never expecting to cross paths with Winston again. Then one day, a fire forces Yu-jin out of his apartment, leaving him and his daughter homeless. At his lowest point, he learns that Winston’s father, Harold Campbell, left him an inheritance in his will. Desperate for any help, he decides to visit the Campbell estate. When they meet again, Winston still despises him, while Yu-jin only wishes to collect his inheritance and leave. To his surprise, Harold has left him far more than expected—but with one condition: he must marry Winston and bear another child within a year. Yu-jin tries to refuse, but reality is harsh. Fueled by resentment over Winston’s continued cruelty, he agrees to the marriage out of spite. Winston, on the other hand, makes it clear that their union is nothing more than a formality to fulfill the will. Yet, despite their intentions, an undeniable pull keeps drawing them back to each other. Both insist it’s nothing but lust, desperately ignoring the emotions that refuse to fade…

Vyendir is the world of mysterious Midnighters who gain supernatural powers when the cold moon embraces them.Anieal Starborne, the youngest daughter of the Starborne family, finds herself amidst the schemes of these mysterious beings.An accident caused by those midnighters leads her to become a Midnighter herself. However, she was much more than a simple Midnighter after all; she obtained the ability to gaze upon the threads of fate and materialise them in the physical world.After being granted the blessing of star essence, Anieal Starborne uses her power over threads, be it physical or spiritual, to weave through the mysteries of her world as she tries to reach her goals; to be free, to prove herself...But one who gazes upon fate can't stay the same...

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.”