I am not just a tycoon - Chapter 124 - 123: Too Many Daughters-in-law, Not Enough Seats at the Table

The Hero Age— circa 3113 ad. An age where humans have developed superpowers such as superspeed, superstrength, and every cliche superhero power there is. But not everyone awakened superhero powers.

A tad 1% of the population were unawakened and Satoshi is one of them... or so he thought.

It all started when he wished for a System-like ability in front of a retro computer, which in turn granted it the power of the System. What Satoshi didn't know is that he holds the power to transform/evolve animals and inanimate objects.

How will Satoshi's life evolve after this newfound power? Will he finally be the very best like no one ever was?

“What do you mean by I need to steal MILFs to become stronger!?” Waking up in an unfamiliar body of a Prince, Lucian stares in bewilderment as a transparent panel materializes before him, displaying a message that demands — “You need to steal MILFs to become stronger!” His mind races with confusion. What does that even mean?? As the absurdity of his new reality sinks in, he begins to accept the dark possibilities before him. In his previous life, as a master seducer, no beauty had ever escaped his demonic embrace. Now, with this new body, he savors the thrill of his newfound power. Their desires will become my playground, and their most sacred secrets will be mine to exploit. “You’re the Empress? I’ll grant you a divine body if you submit to me.” “Your lover is a once-in-a-thousand-years genius? So what? I’ll make you a prodigy that comes once in a million.” “Your husband is the sect leader of a powerful immortal sect? Irrelevant. I’ll elevate you to become an immortal goddess.” To claim the fate points of the ’Sons of Heaven,’ Lucian will seduce their cherished ones and drain their divine essence.

Losing his parent early on, he had to survive in a world he couldn´t even see… Blind and left alone, he was seen as a parasite by the social hierarchy of the new ages filled with martial arts and soulbonds

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.”