MTL - Hot Farmer’s Wife: Buying a Husband for the Farm - Chapter 88 88 mother is distressed for you

Rael screwed up badly. One reckless gamble later, and his guild's entire emergency fund was gone. With debt collectors ready to harvest his organs, his only hope was a single, desperate gacha pull.Ding![Congratulations! Player: Quarterpounder69 has obtained the (Divine) Grade item, Eye of the Beast!][Divine Grade item obtained! All Stats +250][First Divine Grade item obtained! All Stats +100][New title unlocked! [Heavenly Attraction] (Divine)]With no other choice, he consumed the item—only to be thrown into a situation no player had ever faced before.[To ensure fairness, please select a random number. This will determine which boss monster variation you become.]'Uh, I don't fucking know? 69... hmm, maybe not...'[Confirmed.]'Wait—'[Congratulations! You've chosen the Special-Type Boss Monster Variation: The Pay-to-Win Boss.][Congratulations! You've become a Boss Monster!]Armed with broken perks like [Premium Leveling], [Premium Evolution], and [Premium Shop], Rael was thrust into the world of the VRMMORPG game he had been playing.The issue was, he went back in time, specifically, 150 days before the launch of version 1.0.

“In a land far to the east, there exists a strange store that has rejected a three Michelin star rating multiple times.

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.”

The heroine I was rooting for was not chosen.

Then wouldn’t it be okay if I made her happy instead?The heroine I was rooting for was not chosen.

Then wouldn’t it be okay if I made her happy instead?