My wife is a Nine-tailed Heavenly Fox - Chapter 53: I Offer a Dowry of 200,000

In 2026, the world froze over in an apocalyptic ice age.Dean Winters, a man struggling to survive, is betrayed by his lover, his best friend, and the very group he kept alive. Left to die alone in the frozen wasteland, his life came to a bitter end.But death does not claim him. Instead, it hurls him back to a time before the apocalypse began, with every memory intact and a mysterious superpower known as Tyrant’s Ledger. The first of its kind to awaken among humanity, it allows him to perceive numerical values that reveal whether a person is hostile or friendly, and whether an object, location, or resource is spoiled, corrupted, or lethally dangerous.This time, with his newfound power, Dean won’t just survive. He will crush anyone who stands in his way, gather the powerful under his banner, take revenge on those who betrayed him, and rise from the snow as a true Winter Tyrant.

Pei Jin is a black bellied prince. To outsiders he is a kind gentleman and always calm.

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.”