Transmigrating from a zombie world to become the mecha kings wife - Chapter 607: Baby mecha king.

Song Yi found herself transmigrated into a novel, becoming the female protagonist of an old-school Mary Sue story.Gentle, kind, beautiful, and graceful, she was the unattainable ideal in everyone’s heart. The aloof top student fell from his pedestal for her sake, while the reclusive young man fought against his family for her.All of this sounded quite nice, but there was just one problem – this novel had a bad ending!!!

Ye Xiao was a superior cultivator in his previous life. The three factions of the realm kill millions of people every time they attempt to seize cultivation resources. Wealthy towns turn to wastelands in just a single night. They cover up their crime with an assertion that the towns were suffering from pestilence and disasters.

Lin Qian once thought the man she wanted would be handsome and formidable, able to “create clouds with one turn of the hand and rain with another turn” in the business world, causing her to look up to him in admiration. There would be nothing he could not accomplish.

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.”