Marry A Sweetheart And Get Another Free: President, Please Sign This! - Chapter 4072: aunty he’s style of cheating plas!

Mother-in-law, “Add another 200,000 to the bride price, I want to switch to a new apartment!”Younger brother-in-law, “Don't think you're the boss just because you shelled out some stinking money!”As Song Yun was fuming, a voice echoed in his mind.Ding! Host successful check-in, reward: Magic Capital's top beauty!While everyone was entangled in the dispute, a Lamborghini approached from afar.The car door opened, and a peerless beauty stepped out and took Song Yun's hand.“Song Yun brother, let's get married!”

He was straight.Even after dying and waking up as the protagonist in his sister’s BL web novel.He was straight.Even with all the male leads practically throwing themselves at his feet.He was straight.Even when his heart inexplicably skipped a beat during romantic moments with one of them.He was straight.Even now... when he could somehow get pregnant.He was straight.There was no denying it.HE. WAS. STRAIGHT!“So, can someone please help me get out of this goddamn novel already?!”[Warning: 18+ content and there will be some themes of non-consent, mentions of abuse and suicide.]

Shen Ziqiao woke up from her deep slumber to find herself transmigrated as the character of an ancient novel. To make matters even worse, she was written by the author to be the moronic daughter of the villain, merely a walking cannon fodder.

“Are the Gods punishing me because I left a bad review?!”

Yet it doesn’t end there; she has to strive against a reborn heroine’s revenge! And especially against the major death flag in the plot: getting married to the capital’s fool.

But why does she find this fool’s eyes to be too cunning?

- 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.”