The Billionaire's Rental Wife Is A Hot Shot - Chapter 196: A Date On The Cliff -1

Under the vast immortal sky, the brilliance of an era is nothing but fireworks blooming at the fingertips.

Overlooking the earth, for thousands of years, life and death, where are they all? The Immortal Gate, the Dynasty, and the Supreme Holy Land are all just a handful of loess under the Immortal Vault.

A thousand years of splendor, and a smash into ashes.

Cinders sprout in the depths of the ruins, and you and I strive to be the trees that reach the sky.

What the hell is on the other side of the Immortal Firmament?

- Description from novelbuddy

It began with an accident, or maybe a miracle is a better term. Three souls dying by different strokes. One died in glory and blood; One died, betrayed but glad it was over; One died poor and alone. Then on the child’s fifth birthday, the three sleeping souls awakened. Three souls, one body, two desires, and containing all the powers each had in their last life. Were they destined for greatness? No. But when the past comes to haunt them, their home taken away, they have to make a decision… May it be as simple as a majority vote.“Let’s squash them!”“...can we just run away?“Were you never taught to aim for the eyes?”

Ercella lived a glorious life everyone envied, but died of an illness at a young age.

Before her death, she regretted not having become a proper mother to her son.

But somehow, she went back three years ago.

Ercella is living her second life.

I promise to be a loving mother this time.

However, is it too late?

“Now that you’re doing this, you’re just making me feel uncomfortable.”

The son only pushes her away and she realises that her relationship with the husband, who she thought was fine before her regression, wasn’t actually…

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.”