The Princess and Her Rough-Rider Khan - Chapter 69 - 0 Khan can eat you (the fifth watch)

The “Dog Emperor” gets adopted by his fake “Favored Consort.” This story follows their story as they experiences all sorts of trials in the imperial harem and find true love.

The dog king will recover his human body.

This is not a legitimate harem drama novel – there will be love, there will be pampering.

Enormous silver platters, shocking melodramas, all part of the package.

Looking at his own concubines and imperial offspring from a doggy’s perspective:

Who used to be the sweet and gentle eloquent flower turns out to be a venus fly trap behind the scenes.

Who used to be the filial and courteous, intelligent and adorable imperial princes and princesses transform into demons in a flash.

The progression (of the story) overturns understandings and unmask countless illusions.

But by the protection of the gods, the dog emperor met a healing owner. Although the path is rough, the end is pleasant.

- Description from Novelupdates

Chen Yuan transmigrated and became a Mountain Patrol Military Officer.The eight hundred miles of Langdang Mountain is his pasture.Unfortunately, the Great Qian Dynasty is in its final years, with its fate collapsing.Demonic disasters plague the land, bringing devastation to all living beings. The human world becomes a battleground, entering the mortal realm to face calamities.Monstrous beings and malevolent spirits take the stage, disrupting the martial world.Chen Yuan, armed with the Tiger Talisman for Mountain Moving, patrols on behalf of heaven, cutting down mountains and destroying temples.In the eight hundred miles of Langdang Mountain, demons and monsters shall not appear!

I was betrayed in my first life.A cripple, broken and discarded—I died after catching the one I loved in bed with the only person I ever called a friend.That was the start of real torment.When I woke up, it was in another world.A goddess stood before me.She told me I could go back.Back to my world.Back to everything I lost.All I had to do… was play my part.The side character.And I did.I followed the script.Played my role to perfection.They hated me.Mocked me.Used me.Again and again.But I kept going. Because I believed her.Because I wanted to go home.Then one day, I found out.The hard way.It was all a lie.There was no going back.There never was.She used me.Again.Just like everyone else.Thrown away like trash once I outlived my usefulness.That was the day something inside me snapped.And so, I made a vow.I would take everything from her.I would enslave every single heroine she chose.And I would kill the hero she placed all her hopes on.If she wanted to protect this world…Then I would burn it down.But the more I tried, the more things started to change.And then one day—I found one of the heroines.One of the hero's yanderes I had enslaved.She stood there, trembling, a knife in her hand.“You’re not going anywhere,” she whispered, eyes wild.“I won’t let them have you. You belong to me.”...What. The. Fuck. Is. Happening?!

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.”