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... xamined the plans of Dynamis’ Gravity Gun; though the Gravity Rifle would have been a better name for it. The device was long and impractical, though the courier was certain they could miniaturize it.


As Livia had promised, the Dostoïevski was a Russian all-you-can-eat buffet located at New Rome’s periphery and catering almost exclusively to families. The restaurant could have easily accommodated hundreds of patrons, though Ryan’s girlfriend had rented the entire restaurant fo ...

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The cousin isn’t called Biao Ge. He has his own name. His name is Cheng Jinyu. From the phrase—– Wo Jin Huai Yu (to hold and cherish a beautiful jade; a person with good moral values), it’s the name his father gave him.

But Chen Yuze calls him Biao Ge, so Biao Ge became his name.

Biao Ge has a sworn enemy, his name is Gu Bokai. Biao Ge doesn’t know how he provoked this person. He detested himself very much. Like being disgusted with sh*t in a garbage can.

However one day Biao Ge was told to marry Gu Bokai. As for the reason, an extreme pain in the ass, because Biao Ge’s life is hard!

Gu Bo Kai has married three times and now has three dead wives…

Gu Bo Kai: No, absolutely not!

Mother Gu: First cry, second stir up trouble, third hang oneself (throwing a temper tantrum). Continue to get married, or I die and let you see.

Gu Bo Kai: Why?

Mother Gu: He is tough, can avoid being killed by you and can also have children.

(Shou and Gong have no kinship. Biao Ge is what others call this person. It’s like a name)

- Description from Novelupdates

I, the Villain, Want to Save Myself, But the Yandere Heroines DisagreeChapter 98 - Made Me Think I Was Tier 6? (3/3)
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Orson transmigrated into the body of a villainous young master in an overpowered protagonist novel, and the first thing he had to do after waking up was to welcome the protagonist, the real young master, back to the family?Is it too late for me to start sucking up to the protagonist now?I took the initiative to find my fiancée to break off the engagement, but her older sister wanted to take her place and marry me instead?To protect the real young master, I berated the imperial princess, but she secretly fell in love with me?I actively pushed the heroines toward the real young master, but the heroines forced me to become the yellow-haired villain!It’s over, truly…

You’ve Got The Wrong House, VillainChapter 181: END
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As if it wasn’t enough for me to be reincarnated as a child in the slums, I was taken to a city of crime and became a test subject. But then, when I saw the man that came to destroy the research institute, I realized that this was the world of an angst-filled reverse harem novel.

While living a relatively normal life after escaping from the institute, the heroine of the novel moved in next door. From the looks of it, I might be the heroine’s neighbor extra. Originally, the heroine was to save the unconscious and fatally wounded villain and in return, be subject to a fanatical obsession.

But, why. Why is the sub-villain collapsed in front of my house?

The sub-villain, Lakis Avalon, was the king of the underworld and the very same frightening man that I had met at the institute before.

“…”

I took a moment’s glance around then I kicked the man’s body away.

You’ve got the wrong house, Villain.

THE DEATH KNELLChapter 63: THE DARK MULTIVERSE CONSPIRACY
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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.”