MTL - After the Divorce, I Was Spoiled By the Prince - Chapter 1490 hate her

When the night came, there was a twittering sound in his ears, and the monster in the shadows began to move restlessly. Jason’s hungry stomach began to roar, and he couldn’t help swallow his saliva. Hunger was the best spur.

Luan Hualie is just too pitiful! She was just playing a game when she was suddenly transported into another world to become the Young Miss. Just this is okay, but she actually doesn’t have the slightest bit of power!

However, at this moment she had long stopped being the originally powerless eldest young miss. Mythical weapons and pets in her hand, what is there to fear underneath the heavens?

She rose above the mountains and brought down the oceans, and even more so subdued great amounts of devil beasts and holy beasts!

When she swept away the entire continent with her powerful and imposing manner, who could tell she was originally that ridiculous eldest young miss of Lu Family?

He, the prince of Qin, a black-bellied little shotacon, played the pig to eat the tiger. In the midst of the collisions and crossing of swords, how did his mind and body fall into enemy hands?

He, the spawn of the devil, slaughtered and felled the whole world. Without heart, without emotion, without desire. A long contest, countless fights. Why did a brilliant ray of light start to penetrate that frozen world of his?

He, the beautiful man saved from the slave market, obviously had excellent martial arts. Yet, how was he reduced to the most inferior slave? Faced with her salvation, why were his thoughts in a whirl?

And there was still him!

- 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.”

An orphaned boy with dreams of making it big through being a blacksmith is given a once in a lifetime chance to succeed when he's taken in by an odd pair - Eggor and Ella. While former teaches him the arts of craft, the latter teaches him the mysticism of cultivation, granting him two paths to tread in this life.