The dragon's harem - Chapter 1663: Hands Off! She is Mine!

Cole Raden was a previous veteran who becomes entangled in a series of Conspiracies by supernatural Factions and entities. Forced to retaliate, Cole must use his experience and instincts to survive by any means possible, till he ties all threads and frees himself from the chain of bondage.Will he make it out with In tact? or will he loose something greater than his life in the process? only time can tell and his decisions along the way may shape final resulthttps://discord.gg/qAbZX9k5A

The summer I was 17. A painting I created was sold. For 1.4 billion won.

He is high above, the mysterious and terrible King of the Wild. With one glance, he can see people’s romances. He hates women to the extreme, but at his first glance of her, he dotes on her and spoils her.
She is a humble transmigrator, a miracle doctor who doesn’t care for the many handsome men around her. She only wants to become strong, to be worthy of that god-like man. But when she’s finally sure of her feelings, she finds out she’s already been married for years…
……
When wronged：
She uses strength to hit the big handsome iceberg-like man in front of her eyes. “People say that I’m not good enough for you, but it is you who is an old cow eating tender grass!”
A man seizes the main point and laughs like an evildoer. “This husband has to eat the grass to confirm if it is tender or not!” He puts out the red candle……
……
The world says：
The barbarian king has no heart and has no passion.
A pregnant woman very miserably thinks,” If he has no passion, then who is responsible for this big belly?”

- 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.”