The Supreme Satanic System - Chapter 330 Altering Her DNA!

Dani was just an ordinary high school student—until fate played its cruel hand. After losing his parents at 15, he was left alone in the world with only money to his name. Neglecting his health, he developed cancer, and while waiting for death in a hospital bed, he found solace in novels, manhwas, and manga.He often cursed the weak romance in harem stories, where the MC had power and a harem but did nothing while the women fought over him. But one novel captivated him—a masterpiece about 100 heroines, each with tragic pasts, rising to the top of the world. It wasn’t about an overpowered male protagonist but about the struggles and triumphs of these heroines.“If only I could transmigrate into this world and marry them all...”Then he died—and woke up inside the very novel he admired.But not as the protagonist. Not even as a major character.Instead, he is reborn as Dani Everhart, one of the many sons of the king, a forgotten prince with no real power or influence. He is wealthy but not a contender for the throne, overshadowed by his brilliant older brother. However, he has one advantage—his knowledge of the story.He knows the heroines' hidden pain, their struggles, their tragedies.And he refuses to let them suffer.With no grand ambitions for power, Dani sets his sights on a single goal—to make each of these women fall in love with him, forming the greatest harem the world has ever seen.But as Dani gathers heroines by his side, his actions begin to change the story itself.And soon, the world will realize—this forgotten prince is no background character.He’s about to rise.

One day, Su Mu transmigrated to an alternate world.This world had martial arts practitioners, Qi cultivators and also various types of terrifying ghosts, monsters and demons.In such a hostile environment, his otherwise-perfectly fine reincarnation system became a death system. For him, death was not the end, but rather, a new beginning. From the system, he experienced the profane lives of tens of thousands of demons! In one simulation, he was cut up, thrown into a pot, and eaten. Then, he became a Bloody Skeleton. In another simulation, he was forcefully conscripted and died in battle. His corpse did not decay, and he became a Drought Zombie. In yet another simulation, he was struck by lightning, and his extreme Yin Qi was converted into Yang Qi. He became a Fierce Thunder Ghost. In one more simulation, he consumed spirits, and his murderous aura filled the skies. He became an Undying Ghost Chariot. Some people cultivated to become deities. One other person died a hundred times to become a demon!

A fickle, decadent, wilful person going through life like it’s a game.

An experienced, logical mind that’s above feelings.

This was a relationship that had started off with “Carpe Diem”, but slowly turned into a bloodless, psychological battle. They shared a mutual distrust, but also mutual attraction. As they suspected and tested each other, challenging each other’s limits, they both fell into the enemy’s hands with their eyes wide open. Sentiments growing amidst ignorance, they finally, were caught in their own traps.

Winner takes all,

Loser stands small.

- Description from Novelupdates

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.”