Building Harem And Dungeon With Monster Girls - Chapter 111: Bridge of death

He was once a great Immortal, but his attempt to ascend the Nine Heavens ended in failure. Reincarnated on the Blue Star, as he opened his eyes, he found himself with an adorable daughter. And a stunningly beautiful wife?“Daddy, can you cast a spell for me?”“I could even pluck the stars from the sky for you.”

“As if I’d marry an ugly woman like you!”

Xu Jinzhi lived a healthy life until she was seventy-five, passing away without much suffering, and seemingly without any major regrets or dissatisfaction.However, looking at her son, daughter, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren beside her bed, Xu Jinzhi couldn't help but think of her late husband who died young in an accident, wondering if she would be able to see him again—if only she could.Upon opening her eyes next, Xu Jinzhi shockingly finds herself transported back several decades in the past, at a time when the Xu and Xie families were negotiating a business marriage. Without hesitation, she mentions the name 'Xie Yanchuan.'In her previous life, marrying Xie Yanchuan was a reluctant choice, but in this life, she chooses him decisively!The Xie family holds significant influence in City A, Xie Yanchuan, however, is the overlooked member of the family, overshadowed by his older brother carrying familial responsibilities and a younger, frail brother.This setup doesn't bother Xie Yanchuan much; he is content with living quietly.One day, the marriage arrangement with the Xu family lands unexpectedly on his shoulders, resulting in his marriage to the woman named Xu Jinzhi!Xie Yanchuan initially prepares for a marriage of mutual respect or non-interference. However, why does Xu Jinzhi always surprise him with her unexpected actions?

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.”