Spatial Farm Life: Raising My Kid, Abusing Scum, and Keeping Busy With Life - Chapter 287 - : Making Unjust Money

Polishing antiques in the basement was supposed to be a punishment. When monsters arrived, it saved Emma’s life. Now sealed inside a suit of armor old when the world was young, Emma Knight will have to master newfound powers she’d long regarded as merely myth; all whilst navigating the breakdown of society and delving through dungeons in search of the truth behind the apocalypse. How’s that for a Sworded Affair? What to expect: LitRPG, Progression, Dungeons and the Apocalypse. What not to expect: Harem, Smut, Drama or Tragedy.

Introduction: Zhao Si, one of Wall Street’s rising rookies, has been reborn. Knowing the trend of the times, he wants to make his corrupt official father change his ways…

(ps: This story is purely made up, if there is any similarity, it is definitely a coincidence, and it is not aimed at any individual or group organization.)

- Description from novelbuddy

Betrayed by her fiancé and sister teaming up, Su Li surprisingly discovers a cute little Tuanzi who claims to be her biological son, along with a fortune of 100 billion US Dollars, instantly becoming the world's richest person!The cute little Tuanzi: “Mama, feel free to spend this 100 billion US Dollars, it's all Future Papa's money.”From then on, Su Li starts living a life of endless shopping.One day, Seventh Master Feng sighs: “She says I'm too poor again, what should I do?”Su Li: “I'll support you.”-Pure and sweet romance 1V1- How to spend too much money- Female protagonist with superpowers-[Be your own queen, she is the true elite family!]

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.”