Rebirth: I Am Super Rich in Apocalypse - Chapter 467: Found a Cave

After her life ended, Nan Fei Yu was bonded to a Villain System. In order to complete the system’s tasks as soon as possible and reshape her body, she became a villain that everyone hated. Everyone wanted her to die! However, if the villain was delicate and soft, did it bring an alluring hallo?

- Description from Novelupdates

Mimizuku, a small girl with chains on her wrists and ankles and the numbers “332” branded onto her forehead, wanders into the Forest of Night seeking to be eaten by a monster. However, when the ruler of the monsters, the mysterious and beautiful “King of Night,” refuses to eat her, she tries to formulate a way to convince him otherwise.

Fate and destiny; no one can foreshadow the terrifying challenges on the road to the Pure Land. Instead, one may unearth the evil within the road of light towards paradise.

A King’s Holy Sword, bringing light to the darkness,

An unyielding soul, igniting the fiery hope of the world,

As his soul awakens, the youth fiercely battles the gods of darkness and evil,

As the surging dark clouds gushed out like a phantom, their conflict swept the world like raging tide!

The clash of darkness and light, a massive war on the verge of exploding,

The decisive battle of gods and deities rewrite the creation of the world into one destructive epic!

- 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.”