MTL - My Unrivalled Princess: I Won’t Mess With You - Chapter 421 Yuandan's whereabouts are unknown

This is the story of a Gong who was reborn to the time before he lost his shou, where he started to tease his shou crazily… This story will be written from the shou’s POV.

The F1’s God of racing, Winston, lost his one and only important rival, Hunter. No matter how many skillful opponents appeared before him one after another, he still remained as the solitary ruler.

But one day, when Winston woke up, he found himself back to the time Hunter was only 18-years-old.

Winston, “Are you willing to rule over the Kingdom of speed with me and be my only King?

- Description from Novelupdates

One scam package,That's all it took to drag the 17-year-old Cail into the world of the void....He thought he had ordered a limited-edition sneakers. But what came was a shady-looking package on his front gate. It smelled like rotten egg and sulfur. Inside the package was a strange box.It's filled with eccentric junk. They looked very intricate and mysterious. He thought, “I probably got someone else's package, a package from someone that was very interested in mysticism.”An old coin, a cracked compass, a ring with an ugly center stone, and some other weird looking trinkets.So he did what any broke student would do:He sold it. He figured someone might want them for cosplay or something. Well, except the gold-rimmed glasses that seemed to fit him very well.“Damn, I paid 7,000 nu for that sneaker; I better get something out from this scam package.”Then all hell broke loose. Strange people started approaching him.People brought that junk. Very strange people wearing suspicious get up trying to buy those stuff in the sketchiest manner possible.As he kept selling, he realized that the box was refilling, it seemed to have an endless supply of those strange stuff. Those people called it 'artifacts'.Then one day he woke up with a strange tattoo on his arm; inside the tattoo was an independent space containing the box. It is basically inseparable from him.“I didn't ask for any of this to happen. But now, strange people come to me with desperate offers. Money, memories, and even soul.”He's just trying to survive high school while earning some money!He had no idea what was going on, but apparently, this thing that he got? It's not just an artifact. It's a contract.As Cail navagates school life, part-time jobs, and otherworldly clients, he starts asking the real question:When did I become an artifact dealer?!By day, he is just an ordinary student, a NPC character.And by night? He is The Dealer. Selling ancient items and dealing with people that he probably shouldn't be talking to.“Since I'm already in this mess, might as well profit off of it.”

She shouldn’t have got drunk, so she wouldn’t have court the troubles.
She slept with a handsome man and would be sent to the police?
Oh, my sweet Jesus…
“So you just ran away like nothing happened after you slept with me?”
“Old jerk! Even if I had the initiative, it was you who took advantage of me!”
As a saying goes, the more spoiled a president gets, the more likely he becomes a scumbag.
An adorable ‘wildcat’ vs. a scheming frenemy.
This was a love rivalry between a modern Cinderella and a Big Boss.
As time flew, the world was like a fleeting show.
When they met again after several years of separation, he held her hand tightly and swore that he would never give her any chance to leave him again!
Finally, he asked her to marry him and pampered his cute wifey with his endless love.

- 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.”