Re:Crafting in Another World - Chapter 2: Sweet Prey

Yang Yang starved to death once, so after rebirth, he had only one wish: food and clothing.

However, in the blink of an eye, Yang Yang heard his uncle say that he had to cut open his stomach to take out the eggs.

Yang Yang: … I advise you to be kind.

In order to protect himself, Yang Yang found out the identity of the father from the birth center, and he embarked on a road of no return.

Yang Yang: Duke, your family is in my hand.

A young unmarried duke: ? ? ?

- Description from Novelupdates

In her previous life, Wen Ning was imprisoned beside Pei You and became his caged bird, bird in his palm,

Every day is not planning to escape or is on the way to escape,

In the end, he broke off his wings and died in depression.

After living a new life, Wen Ning decided to hide her identity and her temperament.

Acrimonious, short-sighted, stupid and ignorant…

The key is to love him so much.

All in all, he could do as much as he hated her.

Sure enough, Pei You in this life hated her so much that she shunned her.

Seeing her makes me want to wash my eyes.

Wen Ning is physically and mentally at ease, and can finally choose a husband with peace of mind.

On the day when the news of Wen Ning’s engagement spread throughout the city, she ran into Pei You unexpectedly.

Wen Ning decided to stand on the last post and perform the last play, hugging Pei You’s thigh and crying:

“Wow, my lord, my little girl doesn’t want to marry. Oh, my lord, the sky can learn from the sky and the moon and the sun and the moon can show my sincerity, my lord, my lord, if I don’t change my infatuation in this life, I will not marry you!”

In Wen Ning’s script, at this moment, Pei You should be ruthless and leave without giving her a single look.

But he didn’t want him to stand still, and when she was about to stop acting, he bent down slowly, and wiped away the tears in the corners of her eyes with his warm fingertips. From his eyes to his voice, there was a change from the cold charm of the past: “If that’s the case, how about marrying me?”

Wen Ning: “…………………???”

- Description from novelbuddy

In that life, Fan Qingyao was the daughter of a famous family, the successor of a miraculous doctor, and her medical skills were superb. But she poisoned the traitor Zhongliang, considered the thief his father, and threatened her relatives to seek power and seize the throne for him.

The whole family of my grandfather died without any body parts, and my brother was burned into a handful of ashes. Having been drained of all her value, she was thrown into the cold palace and died tragically under the boning knife in his hand.

When she opened her eyes again, she was back to when she was ten years old. People are still the same people, things are still the same, but Fan Qingyao vows to turn things around!

For her seriously ill mother, her wasted sister, and her nameless brother, she wanted to personally find happiness and health for them, and a bright future ahead of them.

Stepmother who dominates her mother’s status, since you love money, I will keep you in poverty for the rest of your life.

Partial father, if you like power, I will ruin your reputation!

You scumbag who deceived her, you love the throne, I will let you watch others sit on that chair!

My sister with a hidden smile, everything you like, I will crush it to pieces in front of you with my own hands!

In this life, relatives must be protected and enemies must be fought. Of course, revenge is not avenged in a day, and the road is not completed in one day.

However, as this road of revenge continues, one more person appears out of thin air! Your Highness, could you please give way?

- 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.”