The Fallen Vampire - Chapter 49: The New Mrs. Ascalon

After an unexpected accident, An Luo was reborn as the young master of a business family. Even as his grandfather’s favored grandson, he seems to only be a cannon fodder in the brothers’ struggle to seize power. However, the most frightening thing is… the strange emotions that flicker in his little brother’s eyes as he looks at him. At that moment, overwhelmed by his brother, An Luo angrily thought: Could it be that he is doomed to never escape this vicious cycle of “brotherly love”?

An Luo(frowning): After rebirth, I don’t want to be together with some strange person.

Someone(suddenly appearing in the back, smiling): What did older brother just say?

An Luo: …Nothing.

- Description from Novelupdates

[Moody Boy x Martial Arts Girl] [HE] [Male Lead is Crazy,]

Quan Zhisui didn’t understand why Wei Shixu was always getting beaten up by people from other schools, and why she constantly had to rush in to save him from danger. Later she found out that those people were just hired thugs.

They were paid by Wei Shixu.

“We’re through!” She firmly drew the line.

Wei Shixu smiled cheekily, “Fine, then don’t come to me for tutoring anymore. Fail the exam and repeat the grade, then let your scumbag dad and stepmom control you.”

Quan Zhisui had to compromise, “Let’s cooperate until the college entrance exam is over, but don’t go looking for trouble when there’s none.”

Wei Shixu: “I won’t go looking for trouble if you date me.”

Quan Zhisui: “I don’t date in high school.”

…

After the college entrance exam ended, Quan Zhisui went far away to university. She blocked all forms of contact with everyone, thinking that would make him give up his obsession, since it was decisive enough.

But she heard that at the awards ceremony, Wei Shixu tore up his university admission letter.

A year later, a certain repeater pursued her to her university.

Crimson Vale Academy—where reputation is currency, and failure is a stain you wear on your sleeve.Behind gothic walls and spotless uniforms, students aren't just educated—they're measured, ranked, and pitted against each other in a brutal meritocracy. Privileges are earned, not given. The strong rise. The weak vanish.Enter Kairon Vale, a transfer student marked Rank D—the bottom of the bottom. No badge. Just a stitched black fang, branding him as “Obsidian”—a warning to others.In a system where points dictate your value, Obsidian-ranked students claw for every opportunity to ascend into the prestigious Golden or Platinum ranks—where comfort, power, and influence await. But for most, it’s a losing battle.Yet Kairon isn’t here to fit in, impress, or play by their rules. Cold, calculating, and impossible to read, he watches the system… and waits. Because while the academy judges worth by numbers and names—he understands something deeper:Everyone wears a mask. And every mask can be cracked.Let the games begin.

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.”