MTL - The Whole Dynasty Spoils the Tyrant’s Two-and-a-Half-Year-Old Daughter - Chapter 325 What else do you have to do with me?

“I beg you, please teach me how to pick up female angels!!!”
Pleaded the twelve-winged angel.

“Teacher!! How can I fool more people into my sect?”
Asked a devil in the devil world.

“Do you know how to save the family cat that died last night?”
Someone in the sky is too embarrassed and asks me quietly.

“All the angel, all the big deity, please I am not God, I am really just a summoner….”
I said painfully.

This is the story of a poor boy and how he becomes the greatest summoner who dominates the six worlds because of an accidental acquisition of Dimension.

- Description from Novelupdates

The worst student of Westroad Academy. The disgrace of the Blake House. A new soul enters the body of Frey Blake, who couldn’t overcome his miserable life and chose death instead. “What’s with this body? I’ll have to work on tuning it from scratch.” The Great Mage Lucas Traumen, with the body of Frey Blake, gains a chance at revenge!

The arrival of origin ability era. Many berserk beasts spawned. Humans with superpowers blooming like mushrooms. Su Hao is just an ordinary 3rd year high school student who had mastered a lowly grade origin ability named
“Model analysis”.

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.”