The Villainess Enjoys Her Seventh Life as a Free-Spirited Bride (hostage) in a Former Enemy Country - Chapter 30.1: What you need to know

Earth's youth, Chen Jichuan, tragically dies in a car accident and is transmigrated into an Immortal Hero world, obtaining the Supreme Skill: [Dao Fruit].Everything starts from ‘Dao Fruit’...

Accidentally entered an ABO novel, and before Mu Er realized that he had an extra organ, he was confused and completed the first great harmony in his life with an Omega.
But when he woke up, the man had disappeared, and Mu Er thought it was just a dream.
Unexpectedly, a few months later, when Jiyou was pointing at the handsome face of the man in the news to her excitedly praising the most outstanding Omega on the planet, she was suddenly tied to that man.
Mu Er was nervous and puzzled, she asked, “Sir, you…”
The man unbuttoned his suit, pointed at his slightly long belly, his face flushed, and he said to her, “responsible.”

(Privately set like a mountain) (O pet A) (Mines clearance: the author’s female lead)
One sentence introduction: Mr. Ba came to me with the ball to take charge
Purpose: Life is precious, and we must be responsible for it.

Content tags: childbirth sweet text through books
Search keywords: protagonist: ┃ supporting role: ┃ others:

- Description from novelbuddy

“How did you board the Astral Express, walk the Path of the Stars?”“Because I ended the Honkai, altered everyone's fate.”“So your first step on this path was becoming a hero?”“No, it was for survival, searching for a thigh to cling to.”“And then?”Ryan adjusted his glasses, his voice resounding.“I became the thigh.”

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.”