MTL - Reborn to be a Stepmother - Chapter 436 Return of the nine princes

What if your life was never your own?What if every choice, every breath, was ink on a page, and you were made to lose?Eris was written to fall.To burn. To become the villain everyone needed to hate.But she remembers everything now.The death. The second chance. The truth.And she’s done playing along.The world wants its villain back.It’s unraveling without her.But Eris is tired. So very tired.And if she must die again, this time, she’ll choose the ending.support me on PATREON: https://www.patreon.com/cw/Rosesarepink

Chu Qin, a seasoned otaku, with a deep passion for watching the Soul Land anime, had the chance encounter to actually traverse to this place.Moreover, he awakened the Goddess System.

Journey through the combined world of the Special Forces series and become the acknowledged bad soldier of the Iron Fist?

Don’t panic! The “Strongest Individual Soldier System” is here to help. Every time you upgrade a level, not only will your body be strengthened, but you can also acquire super skills. At the beginning, you will activate the S-level shooting skills, which will amaze the audience and overwhelm everyone! Thus, a vanguard that made the heads of state tremble was born…

He Chenguang: “Did you practice martial arts from the womb?”

High school team: “He is the scariest individual soldier I have ever seen, bar none!”

Lei Zhan: “It’s unlucky. In his hands, I’m like a three-year-old child. I can’t beat it! I can’t beat it!”

He Zhijun: “Xiao Lin, the future of Langya is in your hands, I will retire early!”

- 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.”