MTL - The Scum Villain’s Self-Saving System - Chapter 35 Liquidation of the general ledger

Struck down amid the battle, the Hero and Demon King meet their demise. As their souls linger on the edge of the afterlife, a mysterious force intervenes, merging their fragmented souls together with a new being. Rusty, the living armor, now affected by their memories and presence, embarks on his own quest. Will he seek revenge on those who betrayed the hero, or will he fulfill the desires of the fallen demon king? or instead, forge his own path?

Jasmine is the first daughter of the great Alpha Bale.Because of her status as a bastard child, she lives a life maltreated scrubbing floors and attending to the needs of her father, step mother, step siblings and the entire pack.But her life makes a drastic turn when she is switched in place for her father’s legitimate daughter to be married off to the Handsome and Cold hearted Alpha Xaden.Xaden is determined to punish Jasmine for the sins of her father who had massacred his entire family, even though she is nothing like her father.Hate slowly turns to desire, fierce passion and finally love.But what happens when Xaden discovers that Jasmine, was planted as a spy to bring his downfall and was not in fact the original princess he was promised to?~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~“Let this be a lesson to everyone. Royal or not, Alpha or Omega,” He declares. “You will steer clear of what is mine. In my own territory. In my pack.”With that, he tosses the bloodied arm aside and takes Jasmine away from their shocked gaze.

The absurd adventure story of Ian, a wizard in a medieval fantasy world.

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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.”