Working as a police officer in Mexico - Chapter 707 - 403: He Can Be Replaced!

In her previous life, Gu Ying gave up her dignity as the legitimate daughter of the Duke of Dongping’s manor for Jiang Yin. She pestered him relentlessly until she finally married him.

Later, Jiang Yin rose to great power and status. He schemed against the state first, then killed her father and exterminated her clan.

She was betrayed by her scumbag husband and sister-in-law. They broke her legs and threw her in a dilapidated temple, subjecting her to all kinds of humiliations for ten long years.

After being reborn, Gu Ying returned, ready to take revenge.

The first step was to cling onto the “fiancé, Young Marquis Yong’an”, kick away the scumbag, fight the scumbag sister-in-law, and play the prestigious families of Bianjing for fools!

The second step of revenge was to cancel the engagement with the “fiancé” and flee to the borderlands, taking her younger brother to find their father!

The third step of revenge was to find a meek, submissive man to marry, staying far away from the scumbag husband, and live a happy life!

Yet she never expected that the leg she clung onto by accident did not belong to the Young Marquis, but the legendary, sinister and ruthless Crown Prince Zhao Changdu!

Everyone said the Little Prince was hard to handle. This time she would certainly lose her life.

Yet unexpectedly, she could not only handle the Little Prince, but also arrogantly ride on top of him. “Husband, you have cultivated excellent masculine virtues, your wife cannot run away!”

The subordinate was shocked: “Little Prince, you stay up all night reading, you wouldn’t be looking through the Dongli Punishment Illustrations Manual to torture your wife, would you?”

Zhao Changdu remained expressionless: “Thank you for your concern, but this Crown Prince is cultivating masculine virtues to please his wife.”

Blondina was a princess with commoner blood in her veins. She lived quietly in the Star Palace among the heavens, but one day, she heals a wounded cat. The cat became a balm to her lonely life. But the lovely cat was actually…

***

Amon stepped on the neck of the prince.

Amon eyes stared coldly at the prince.

“Humans dare threaten mine?”

“I didn’t know… I don’t know, it’s Blondina…”

“Yeah, I don’t know. But I don’t know either. How much power must be adjusted so that you will not die.”

As Blondina, who was watching, grabbed his collar to drag Amon,

Amon turned slowly and laughed at Blondina.

“Don’t worry, Blondina. I will kill anything that bothers you.”

***

What to do with him.

It seems that I picked up a scary creature without my knowledge.

Just when I got to know her, the hairy girl only wants to beat me up!Prim childhood sweetheart treads on me underfoot!Childhood friend turned sister suddenly demands I repay the kindness of upbringing?...Are all these twists of human nature, or the moral decay?Surrounded by young girls wielding knives, Shen Mo Dust trembles: 'Author, why do I only meet bad women?''What exactly are you not satisfied with, let's switch roles!'Jealous at having crafted the protagonist's peak of life with his own hands but without a single girl by his side, the author furiously slams the keyboard!(Spotting the little whips raised by the venerable readers, he picks up the keyboard again)The alternate titles of this book are 'They Shine Like Stars' and 'They Are Lonely Like Stars'.

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.”