The Bastard First Prince Doesn't Want to Die - Chapter 120

[Rebirth + Abuse of Trash + Sweet Love] In her previous life, Su Li was blind and helped her husband to ascend to a high position.When he became successful, she abandoned him.Her grandfather's family and her father, the Shangshu, who had lived a clear and upright life, were decapitated and beheaded. She herself died with two bodies and could not close her eyes. God has eyes and she was reborn. In this life, she protects her relatives and steps on scumbags and bitches.When the scars faded, her appearance was stunning.Her medical skills were superb and amazing. ... A certain prince who was upright and elegant outside was clinging to the beauty in his arms: “This prince feels uncomfortable all over, and I need Li'er to check it out.”✨Love this translation? Support me on Patreon for early access, exclusive content, and more! Your support keeps the translations coming—subscribe today!

That year…

Zhou Yang, an honest man who just got his driver’s license, crashed the camera of the Caotai crew. With no money, he could only sell himself to the crew to do odd jobs. I originally thought that if I worked until the film was finished, I would be able to regain my freedom.

However! ! !

When the swindler director ran away with the assistant director, and he was almost regarded as a fraud accomplice by the long-legged beauty investor, the honest Zhou Yang was dumbfounded.

“I’m on top? What do I take on top?”

“God, my major is electronic information technology. I’m just connected to wires. I don’t know anything about making movies…”

“…”

- Description from novelbuddy

Chris was born in a world where the humans are not the ones at the top of the food chain. Even when they are the bottom, humans fight each other for power. Whether Chris would survive in such a world or not, read the story to find out.

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.”