The King of Beast Trainers - Chapter 224-136 Doctor Gu: Ah? _1

[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.

A teen is summoned to another world as the Hero. It turns out the Hero can power up women with his cum.

Su Wan is a Realm Destroyer. She shuttles to different time-spaces using the identity of the “Cannon Fodder Ex-Girlfriend”, dedicated to plotting how to happily tear apart the male protagonist and the female protagonist. –There’s no such thing as protagonists who can’t be torn apart, only Ex-Girlfriends who don’t work hard enough~

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.”