MTL - Dressed As the Villain’s Mother - Chapter 94

A naturally timid engineering student found himself transported to France before the grand revolution, only to become the older brother of the future Emperor Napoleon for some inexplicable reason. Now, he faced a crucial decision: would he seize this opportunity to create his own remarkable destiny or merely cling to this lifeline and drift along?

The poor Commandery Princess is down and out. Her father died when she was young, and her mother passed away not long ago. Her grandfather, the only one she can rely on, is now at death’s door from his illness. Faced with the merciless uncle, the greedy aunts, as well as cousins competing to present the model of the worst relatives, the Commandery Princess could do nothing but feel depressed in heart.

[House of Dragons, Game of Thrones Prequel] The heir prince known as the One-Day Heir should have died young, but Rhaegar stubbornly survived.Being born sick and weak cannot defeat him, and losing his qualification as an heir cannot make him give up on himself.Using the Explorer system, he will explore ancient relics and embark on a legendary conquest that will span the Seven Kingdoms.Explore the Skull of the Dark Terror Balerion: Dragon’s Legacy (50% Fire Resistance)Explore the White Hart: A desire for LongevityExplore Blackfire and Dark Sister: King’s Gaze and Knight’s Oath.Rhaegar tamed his dragon, took the Iron Throne, and destroyed all who stood in his way.Winter is coming, and I have ridden my dragon to meet it.*Important Note*In the original narrative (Lore), the one day heir prince was named Baelon, in honor of Viserys’s father.However, the author, disliking the name Baelon, opted for Rhaegar, inspired by the Prince Rhaegar in Game of Thrones.

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.”