Transmigrated: Stealing the CEO husband - Chapter 17: Important Talk

Kivas Chariot is struck by the sun—an event that corrupts her soul beyond repair.In the blink of an eye, she's transported into the midst of a cosmic ritual, performed by three eldritch beings beyond comprehension.Overwhelmed by the sheer magnitude of their presence, her fractured soul erupts in a desperate tantrum, shattering the terrifying rite.Yet beneath their monstrous forms, one of the entities reaches out to her gently—soul to soul—and asks a simple, warm, and comprehensible question.“What is it you truly desire?”Tears welling, Kivas whispers from the depths of her being.“I want to be loved!”The entity grants her wish.But not directly.Now, somehow awakened in a strange new world, Kivas discovers something bizarre—there are stats, HP, MP... even classes and skills.In a world where time matter less and power are more rampant, Kivas attempts to strive and live her brand new life.

The night before her wedding, her world shattered.Betrayed by her own sister and abandoned by her fiancé, who demanded her kidney as the price for his love, she thought her life was over. But she refused to be a victim.At the altar, she made a bold move: she called off the wedding and declared she’d marry anyone willing to step up. To everyone’s shock, he—the richest and most powerful man in the city—stepped forward, claiming it was his “duty” to marry her.Overnight, she went from a betrayed bride to the wife of her ex-fiancé’s uncle, turning the tables on everyone who wronged her. From navigating family drama to outsmarting scheming rivals, she rose to become the undisputed queen of both families, building an empire of her own.Now, with a thriving career and a husband who adores her, she’s living her best life. But when her husband calls, begging her to come home because their twins are “starving for attention,” she knows her chaotic yet glorious life is just getting started.

The fallen ones, strange monsters that showed up on earth with the sole purpose of destroying everything and ruling over humans.Only one man remained during the onslaught, his name, was Rashin Montero.“Do you wish to live or die?”The question appeared before him.“Kill me assholes!”He died.A hundred years passed and Rashin finds himself alive in the future.It turned out he was saved by a stray angel, and was granted a powerful energy that allowed him to stand on equal footing with the monsters that once wanted to take over earth.In his new future, the world has been restored to what it ones was, a huge shield was placed around the world to keep the Hakiaas out.Heroes were summoned to defend the world against these monsters during the Countdown, while the monsters could not be killed or harmed, they could still be sent back to their world.Or at least, until Rashin arrived.[Blacksmith System activated. Welcome host.][Initializing core functions... Complete.][Congratulations, you have gained a new blue paint (Large sword.)][Stella blade has passed all requirements to evolve.][Evolving to human form can now be processed.][Congratulations, you have gained a unique core, your weapons can now undergo fusion.]Having a system that allowed him to craft weapons of all kind, Rashin enters this new world trying to survive while also remembering part of his memories.Not just that, he can also turn every weapon he makes into beautiful overpowered maidens capable of killing the Hakiaas aka fallen ones.

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.”