Little Miss Devil: The President’s Mischievous Wife - Chapter 34: Lu Xinyi Got Married

The summer I was 17. A painting I created was sold. For 1.4 billion won.

Adrian Voss was a forgotten beta tester—erased by a corrupt game company that put profit over players.Now reborn in Primordial Abyss with a glitched class that lets him control dungeon bosses, he doesn’t grind levels… he grinds players.Every monster he subjugates becomes a weapon. Every raid boss he enslaves earns him passive income. And every overconfident guild that steps into his domain?They drop loot when they die.But this isn't just another OP power trip. Adrian doesn't win because he's stronger—he wins because he's smarter. He lays traps like a raid leader, exploits mechanics like a dev, and rewrites the system from the shadows.From dungeons to PvP, he turns the most advanced gaming system ever built into a weapon that stabs its creators in the back.Now the streamer assassins, sponsored guilds, and even the developers are hunting for the one they call...The Dungeon Phantom.Too bad they don’t realize:The real dungeon isn’t the game.It’s the one they’re walking into.Let the hunt begin.

Admist the turmoil of a blood-soaked battlefield, General Hua Ren was perched on a horse, his once-pristine uniform now a canvas of rebel bloodstains. Lifeless bodies, a macabre mosaic of soldiers and rebels, lay strewn across the ground—some severed, others trampled beneath the hooves of horses.In the distant backdrop, a bomb erupted, rattling the battlefield, and in that fleeting moment, the General detected the scent.His Alpha.His heart raced as his gaze locked onto the most frigid, intimidating eyes he had ever encountered, and a sinking feeling gripped his stomach.Sheng Fei, leader of the rebellion, stood tall amidst the chaos, a sinister smirk playing on his lips. In a chilling display of power, Sheng Fei swiftly ended the life of a soldier, his eyes never leaving Hua Ren.The stark reality unfolded before Hua Ren, solidifying the bitter truth that their connection was entwined in the threads of enmity.He could never be the Omega to a Rebel AlphaOr so he thought.

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.”