Sweet Rustic Love: Four Brothers’ Wife - Chapter 133 - No Difference to Them

The demon Sang Jiuchi woke up from a seal and found that he was bound to the Quick Transmigration system, and the characters he took over were all without exception, the worst villains.

Blackmailing the top streamer but ended up killing his own despicable tech genius…

The vicious true young master who framed the fake young master but suffered the consequences…

The murderous master who humiliated his apprentice but was killed…

The sinister mermaid who seduced the general and was slaughtered…

The hypocritical pope who deceived people and was burned at the stake…

- Description from Novelupdates

Somewhere in the wilderness. As soon as Ruan Youqing cleared up the gangsters, he turned around and saw Mr. Shoufu who came behind him. Throwing away the meteor hammer he picked up casually, Ruan Youqing fell into his arms by coincidence.

Ruan Youqing looked shy: “If Master Shoufu hadn’t arrived in time, you Qing would have been in trouble.”

Ignoring the screams and wailing next to his ears, Master Shoufu who did nothing stretched out his hand to wipe off the blood on the girl’s face, Then he said without changing his face: “The world is getting worse, people’s hearts are not old. Miss Ruan still has to be careful in the future, after all…you are too weak.”

The gangsters: “…???”

- Description from novelbuddy

Xin Yun, a sarcastic young man, traveled to an unknown world by chance, but lost his chance to become the strongest because of his obsession with women... or sex. In a collision of the powers of nine powerful men, an incredible thing happened. Xin Yun was reborn back to the time when he traveled to the Isekai world. A fantasy journey is about to begin... [The comic adapted from this novel is popular all over the world]

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.”