MTL - My Stand-in is Steve - Chapter 459 Your Majesty, be quiet, Your Majesty

Betrayed by the kingdom he bled for. Executed by the brother he once protected. Daemon died a war hero—branded a monster.But death isn’t the end. Not for him.Reborn on the day of his cursed birth, under the same blood-drenched eclipse, Daemon remembers everything: the lies, the poison, the crown soaked in his mother’s blood. This time, he won’t beg. He won’t protect.He’ll burn the empire from the inside out.His twin brother Gabriel—the golden child, the “righteous” king—stole everything. So Daemon will take it all back, piece by piece.The nobles who cheered at his execution? Dead.The soldiers who held him down? Ash.The kingdom that worshipped a fraud? Buried under screams.This isn’t about justice. This is about revenge, and Daemon’s not stopping until his brother’s skin hangs from the palace gates.The empire made a monster.Now it gets to meet him.

The Dao Court has ruled the world of cultivators for over twenty thousand years. The noble families maintain a strict hierarchy, making life difficult for independent cultivators.At ten years old, Mo Hua, who comes from a background of independent cultivators, struggles with his cultivation journey. This changes when a Dao stele appears in his mind.The stele is damaged and mysterious, but it can enhance spiritual awareness and help understand mystical formations.Mo Hua plans to use this stele to develop a supreme spiritual awareness, learn the secrets of celestial formations, and pursue the ultimate path of immortality. His goal is to change not only his own destiny but also the destiny of all lesser cultivators across the world.The path to greatness starts with the smallest steps, and the journey to immortality is long and challenging.Through dense fog and treacherous terrains, past horrors and chaos, where demons dance wildly, he must plant the seeds of his spiritual quest, survive the deadliest of trials, and prove his worth on every dangerous step…In the grand scheme of heaven, where the universe is the game board and all creatures its pieces, the strategic game of life and death begins, shaping destinies through its intricate moves…

Wu Chen traveled to a new world, but he is trapped on July 7, 2020!

He indulged himself, did all kinds of evil things, ran away in despair, and even committed su*cide hundreds of times in all kinds of ways. But when the day ends, everything goes back to the beginning.

While getting stuck in the repetitive days, he spent countless days learning and studying. And so, he has mastered hundreds of languages and can communicate with 99.9% of the world’s population. He is also proficient in all mainstream musical instruments, arts, dancing, performances, shooting and martial arts… In fact, he is comparable to a master in any and every one of them.

In this way, he lived for a thousand years.

However, when a new day dawns and the sun rises as usual, the date is… July 8, 2020!

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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.”