Transmigrated as the Tortured Female Lead's Daughter - Chapter 595

After graduation, Zhou Chao went home and inherited the convenience store his parents left behind. He also received a Check-in System.

[Ding! You have obtained a newbie gift pack x1.]

[Do you want to open it?]

“Open the newbie gift pack,” Zhou Chao said as he leaned back in his chair.

Upon opening the gift pack, he received a Wuling Hongguang MINI EV and 1 million yuan in cash….

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Ji Ling, who was transmigrated into the notorious body, after settling the foreign debts owed by the original owner, was persecuted by peach blossom debts before, and then had a mother who wanted to exchange her for money.

Suddenly, in order to repay her kindness, Ji Ling married her benefactor’s grandson, an elderly young man, in a flash marriage.

In the days after marriage, she summed it up in one sentence: My daily life with the face-blind old rooster.

Gan! !

- Description from novelbuddy

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.”