Transmigrating into the Reborn Male Lead's Ex-Boyfriend - Chapter 138: A Smile on His Face, Long Legs

***Completed*** Lady Jessamyn brought home a ten-year-old orphan when she was eight. He was handsome ^_~. She provided him with a place to stay and warm meals. As they grew up, she desired to marry him, despite their differing statuses. As war raged, he signed up for the military, promising to ask for her hand when he was worthy.Two years later, he became more than what he promised he would be. He became the Archduke of Ayberia. But he broke her heart by marrying her friend.Years rolled away; life happened. She married a man who loved her and fell madly in love with him. She didn't think of him again. But fate was cruel; she was widowed at the age of twenty-one. She lost everything.Seven years later, she met a mysterious wolf while she was out at work in the Archduke's fief. She had a fall. The next morning, she found herself on the Archduke's bed.Did fate bring them together again? Or something nefarious is at play? Is this a chance for a second love?Will she find out why he abandoned her in the past?Is it possible to rekindle their old love, or is it too late?-----Join me in this journey. Your comments and votes are appreciated. Gift me to motivate me.Updates will be daily.

Villain System: Let the Young and Naïve Duchess of the Cang Court Principality, Sylvia, Experience the Betrayal of Her Loved Ones, and Achieve Transformation and RebirthTransmigrating into a Western fantasy world centered around beast taming, Xia Ya stared at the beginner mission in front of him, lost in thought.Sylvia—the legendary “Silver Witch of Cang” recorded in history—had already ascended to legend status five hundred years ago. After establishing the White Chalk Tower, she vanished without a trace, never to be seen again. And as for the Cang Court Principality? It had long since been destroyed. How was he supposed to complete this f***ing mission?This system was five hundred years late!Yet, the mission reward was simply too tempting. After much deliberation, Xia Ya made a decision that would make his ancestors roll in their graves—[To Deceive History Itself]The capital was gone? Fine. Then I’ll just write my name into the duke’s family records and become the older brother of the duchess. No objections, right?Modify relics and ancient texts? Sure. Let’s say I was manipulated by cultists, falsely accused Sylvia of an imaginary crime, and personally exiled her. Then, later, I came to my senses and perished alongside the mastermind behind it all. That sounds reasonable, right?[The One Forgotten by Time][The Heartless Tyrant][The King Who Turned His Back on the World]One hidden truth after another began to resurface.[The Silver Witch’s Diary]Waking from my self-imposed slumber, my memories are in tatters—except for one, still deeply etched into my soul: the pain of betrayal.Recent archaeological discoveries have revealed the truth…It turns out that the principality had already been corrupted by a cult. Not long after my exile, an evil god descended upon the royal capital, annihilating all life.So… my brother did all of that… to save me?

It was an era of war unlike ever seen before in Murim history.To end the horrible war, numerous heroes had sacrificed their lives and disappeared on the battlefield.This is the story of a man that longed to be a hero and the story of his brilliant rise to the top.***Joo Seo-Cheon is a man who luckily survives the Warring Era and becomes the Hwasan sect’s elder, only to live a life full of regrets and doubts.He lays on his deathbed waiting for the inevitable when he is returned to the past…

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.”