The Eccentric Entomologist is Now a Queen's Consort - Chapter 385 : Zealots in the Dark (1)

From the outside, Nana’s life seemed simple. She had everything she had ever wanted: a cute but rascally pair of twin brothers, a best friend, and her own restaurant. Nana couldn’t ask for anything more; she was happy and content in her life.

He was the powerful and influential heir of B City, the merciless head of the commercial world, but the divorce papers made him lose his cool.

“Sign the divorce papers, daddy,” said the 5-year-old boy.

This man had the divorce papers thrown in his face by his wife six years ago, and was now being pushed by his own son to sign the papers.

“That would make you a single-parent child,” said Gu Juexi coldly.

“Mommy said unicorns don’t exist but men like you do,” the boy leered at his father and said.

Gu Juexi’s face fell. ‘That damned woman.’

“You haven’t signed the papers,” the boy reminded as the man left. As usual, the door shut in his face.

Good lord… Dad and mom are not getting a divorce and are giving him a baby brother? How worrying!

A college student, gets a system called the God Of Kinks system. Which allows him to turn anyone into whatever he desires without becoming one himself.Watch as he turns people into, Masochists, Cucks, Voyeurs...etc.NO NTR SHIT!!!!!! NO YURI!!ONLY NETORI[ By the way, the pictures used here are not mine. If you enjoy the novel, drop a comment or review, If it's a question about the novel I'll answer it, as long as it doesn't spoil the story]

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.”