The Shadow of a Luna - Chapter 36

[Unconventional routine text! The content is seriously inconsistent with the title of the book, and it is biased towards the daily direction and life flow! If you don’t like it, don’t enter! 】

Through the strange but familiar parallel world, from a popular writer to a high school student lying on an orthopedic hospital bed:

There is a sweet voice in my mind that keeps repeating endlessly;

In the school, there was a deskmate who was said to have nothing but good looks;

…

In the previous life, he lost to reality in the long-distance love race, and was alone for half his life. In this life, he wants to try to be a scumbag.

Is there a more suitable career than a star?

Novels, poems, music, movies…

It all starts here.

- Description from novelbuddy

Bathed in the love of her imperial family and her husband, Yun Shang was a spoiled princess and the envy of many at the Royal Court. Her life had been perfect right up till the moment when she realized that everything was just a sham, a ruse designed by the Empress to ruin Yun Shang. After enduring bitter treachery and being poisoned, Yun Shang died with a broken heart and an unfulfilled vow of vengeance. As if God was answering her final request, Yun Shang found herself reborn like an immortal phoenix. She was eight again, and all her memories from her previous life remained intact. The others, however, did not remember the events leading up to her death. Determined not to repeat her mistakes, Yun Shang planned to rain hellfire onto the treacherous, backstabbing villains for all the heart-wrenching pain they had once inflicted upon her. He was the handsome and smart prince of the Ning, who was revered as a battle-hardened general that knew no match in the world. He had thought he wouldn’t settle for anyone until she showed up. A seemingly innocent young princess and a gorgeous prince. Where would their relationship lead them?

- 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.”