OMG! Tyrant's Pampered Baby Is a Valued Princess - Chapter 165: Cursed Words, Immediate Rebound

[sexual content and lemons warning]Warning: Sexual content, lemons, Comedy, MILFs, Genius Mc and his harem.Support the novel by adding to your library and with power stones!!*****Freshly turned eighteen, John Newman, a helpless nerd, suddenly gets video game abilities granted to him. A mysterious higher power, a secret Abyss of magic beneath the surface of the normal world, mages, martial artists, eroticism, tragedy and a harem of hot girls awaits.

The first time they met they had battled fiercely, just for a mere bunch of herbs. She needed it to save people, and he wanted to use it to save his own life.

“Let go of it, or you will die.” The man’s violet eyes were cold and sinister as he said in a low voice.

She held on tightly to the base of the herb and pulled its roots right out of the ground, before she turned her eyes back with a crafty smile. “It’s mine now. Snatch it from me if you can.”

When they met several years later they were no longer on opposing sides in hostility. In order to repay the debt for having stolen the herb back then, she went on to miraculously cure his body’s condition, relieving him of the inhumane torment that wrecked at his body day and night. He was amazed by the godly skills in Medicine she possessed and his heart went on to fall irrecoverably head over heels in love.

- Description from novelupdates

Have you ever thought a monster that has a job of a summoner and a tamer

what should it call itself Monster Summoner? Monster Tamer? but he itself was a monster too

Watch as our mc travels the world as an reincarnated human who turn into a monster

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.”