Swear Fealty To Me, My Subjects! - Chapter 259.2: Heartbroken Simp, Imminent Apocalypse (2)

She, the “godly doctor” of an assassin organization in 21st century, transmigrated into the body of Yun Family’s abandoned, good-for-nothing Ninth Miss. Good-for-nothing? Then she’ll let the world see what a real good-for-nothing looks like. Summoners are legendary? Nothing is impossible in this world! She’ll become the first Magical Summoner.

He, the third prince in Long Xu Kingdom and the mysterious, behind-the-scenes owner of Zhou Dynasty’s monopolized business, seemingly handsome and uninhibited, is actually brutal and merciless.

The world knows her as a sickly good-for-nothing and her standing is as low as a servant’s, yet she solely dominates his heart. Trickery, schemes, overbearing, seducing… an exhaustion of methods, all to capture her heart. The scheming couple supports each other, producing stories about enmity, love and win-win cooperation.

Read to see how they stand side-by-side at the peak of this extraordinary world.

- Description from Novelupdates

Talent? Unnecessary! Wealth? Doesn’t matter! Brain? Eat it!

Even if one was the greatest of gutter trashes with zero redeemable qualities, as long as they had a System, they are bound to reach the pinnacle of life.

Compass Carburettor, a dirt-poor orphan with absolutely zero f**king qualities managed to reach the peak of the business world by the age of 35, all while relying on his Money-Making System like a blinded barnacle.

But at the peak of his life, he was betrayed by his System.

One day, a Tower appeared, and with it a proclamation by God that Humanity is to be judged for becoming too corrupt.Regression…It’s an ability so fraudulent that it doesn’t require any detailed explanation.Yes, I also agree that it is a fraudulent ability, but…Isn’t it too much to regress due to just a slightest injury…?

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.”