Spirit Hunters of Maoshan Sect - Chapter 227

Bei Yinuan, the young master of the modern Wu family, as the heir of the Wu family, has tenth level of witch power, a 100% genius, known to everyone in the metaphysics world, and was once designed to be inserted into a novel .

In the world of comprehension, there is always a genius who is famous both at home and abroad, a son of an aristocratic family, whose appearance and character are not inferior to the protagonist, but this setting is always the male second.

Zhenjun Beihan of the Longyuan Sect is the talented and beautiful Xiu·Nan Er·xian genius who is well-known both at home and abroad.

Zhenjun Beihan exists with equal strength and appearance. When mentioning this Zhenjun, everyone praises him for being magnificent, but this Shuangjue has a number one black fan, a black fan nephew who smears him all the time… …

Welcome to the new female disguised work “This Daoist is too serious”

- Description from novelbuddy

Renea was trying the wedding dress, when suddenly the man rushed in the dressing room and held her neck tightly...“Bitch! Are you still trying to pretend innocent!” Jasper said as he tightened his grip on her neck and choked her harder. Then he used his other hand and took out the phone from his suit pocket and played the video of two people having sex in front of Renea…However, what was even more shocking, was that the woman in the video was, Renea Morris, however, the man in the video was not Jasper.Renea struggled to take a phone away from Jasper’s hand and tried to explain, “Jasper, it was not what you think… I… I can…”Jasper looked at Renea with his eyes full of disgust, as he said, “Let’s call of the wedding. I can’t marry a woman like you.” After saying that Jasper walked out of the shopRenea chase after Jasper...But then she sees Jasper passionately kissing her sister Kailey. And she hears everything, that her sleeping with strange men was all a plan of the vipers of the last two days, and that their goal was to get out of this stupid marriage. Even her adopted parents were also involved in this matter...They all do this with her because of the inheritance left by her grandfather...Renea heart was filled with anger and she wanted to expose their true colors to the public... However before she could do anything, Kailey had pushed her in front of the car and she got killed...However, when Renea open her eyes, she found herself sitting in the car with Kailey... She realized that she was reborn and went at the time when everything started...Renea looked at the people who had hurt her in her previous life and her lips curled up in a cold smile...She was back...However, this time... she was back for revenge...

In the world of dragons and snakes, the talented but congenitally sick martial arts master was reborn as the sole heir of the 19th-century Canadian manor owner. He thought he would make money by practicing boxing, but he took advantage of the industrial revolution to become a giant of the times. The opened template.

In the end, the original owner was a hopelessly sick and consumptive ghost! I am still a bastard having an affair with a gardener…

Wait, what’s up with the claw?

James Howlett looked at the bone claws protruding from between his fingers, and became more and more worried about his future.

- Description from novelbuddy

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.”