MTL - The Whole Dynasty Spoils the Tyrant’s Two-and-a-Half-Year-Old Daughter - Chapter 365 Hit the idea on Jun Ning

After finding himself a poor man in a world of Cultivation, Magic, and infinite possibilities, William has to do everything in his power to survive. But with the knowledge of modern books, movies, and a System granting the ability to upgrade his talents, William is prepared for anything! Or...is he?Follow William, his Potential System, and his chaotic character as he improves his strength from Peasant to Primordial Being!Don't worry, he won't cause too much chaos...right?

Xuanyuan was reborn into a strange new world where training to be a Xian was a cornerstone. There was however something ancient dwelling inside his body. He could now devour all of creation…

This is the journey of an ordinary boy and his transformation into the supreme being that reigns over all existence! Everywhere he went, he could not help but tie his fate with numerous women. It did not matter whether they were a goddess or a devil…

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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.”

All I ever wanted was for famous detectives like Sherlock Holmes or Arsène Lupin to appear in my dreams and share their wisdom. But instead, why am I hearing the voices of notorious serial killers in my head, guiding me to solve a string of mysterious cases?