MTL - Divine-grade Evolution: God! My Gold Fish Is A Dragon! - Chapter 227 Illusion Potion Comes Back

Many people wish to become a character in a novel they like. Side characters are the best ones to reincarnate as. And Ceaser was the same. However, the problem is, the person he reborn as, was supposed to die at that time when Ceaser appears in the fantasy world. The childhood friend of the main heroine, who was supposed to be a stepping stone for the main lead so she can grow stronger. However, now that Ceaser was in that person’s body, naturally, he couldn’t let himself get killed just after rebirth. But what consequences will he bring by staying alive? And what awaits near the end of this story, about which even Ceaser is unaware?

Tan Rou only learned that she wasn’t the Tan family’s daughter when she was seventeen years old. She went from being a rich young lady to living in the slums. The parents she adored belonged to someone else, and this series of knockdowns was hard for a seventeen-year-old girl to accept. She wailed like a child for the sake of proving this was all a lie. The vicious words she spouted had hurt her biological family but she didn’t notice.

She thought the Tan family was her real family despite them seeing her as an eyesore, and was even naive enough to want to befriend the Tan family’s real daughter, Tan Jing. Alas, the latter drugged her drink and arrange for a thug to rape her. Tan Jing even brought their classmates along to catch them in the act so Tan Rou was now tainted for life. After being reborn, she looked down at the man she was stepping on. Tan Rou swore not to be a useless wretch in this life or be bullied to death.

She would stomp on those who wronged her and make it up to her real family. They wouldn’t have had to die tragically on the streets in the past life had it not been for her. Tan Rou turned completely evil after crawling back out of Hell. Everyone claimed that the real young lady was educated and talented, while the fake young lady was arrogant and incompetent. Tan Rou scoffed upon hearing this. She held back her brother from trying to stand up for her. “We have all the time in the world. Let’s just wait and see.” Just as everyone was waiting for Tan Rou to make a fool of herself…

A top-class perfumer, a top scholar, a world champion… The fake young lady’s multiple identities kept getting exposed one after another, bumping her up to number one on the trending search, shocking the world. Wait, where was the promised humiliation?

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.”

Three rejections. Three shattered dreams. That was Layla’s reality, all because she was different—a half-shifter in a world obsessed with purity. Ostracized, shunned, and finally sold off like a pawn to the most feared ruler alive—the Lycan King. He was ruthless, a king with a graveyard of brides, each one a ghostly reminder of a fate worse than death.Layla loathed him. Hated the way his gaze cold and fathomless, held no warmth for her. Hated how his touch, both thrilling and terrifying, sent an uninvited chill down her spine.---“I hate you!” I screamed, hands clenched so tight my knuckles ached.He sighed, a smirk curling at the edge of his lips, his tone mocking as he closed his book with a deliberate snap. “Stressed, are we?” he asked, strolling toward me, each step reminding me exactly who held the power here.“Lucky for you,” he drawled, rolling up his sleeves as he stopped just inches away, “I know exactly 70 ways to ease those nerves.” His fingers brushed my cheek, a touch that seemed to burn into my skin. “The first… a hug.” His voice dropped to a rough whisper as he leaned in, breath hot against my ear. “And the rest... well, that's 69? what do you say about that?”I swallowed hard, my heart thudding wildly as he tilted his head, waiting for me to react, that insufferable smirk still in place.“What’s the matter, darling?” he murmured, a taunt lingering in his gaze.---A Dangerous ObsessionCan she resist the pull, or will she dance into the flames of her own destruction?A dark dive into obsession, raw need, and the razor’s edge between desire and devastation.---LYCAN KING CASSIANI will tear her apart piece by piece, feeding the wildfire that grips her with each shuddered breath. Like air to flame, I’ll claim every inch, drawing heat from her skin until it sinks into her bones.Her pulse will race under my hands, her breaths shallow, pleading. Her eyes may scream, but her lips will still murmur my name. That first taste of fear will only feed something deeper—a need that burns through her veins, molten and fierce.And just when she’s too far gone to turn back, I’ll twist the knife, giving her the pain she’s learned to crave.She’ll be the moth to my flame, helpless against the very thing that will consume her.