The Female Taoist Priestess's Childhood Sweetheart Is a Male CEO - Chapter 2: Here comes the surprise

The real beast master: the pet beast charges forward, and the beast master can only cheer from the rear!

False beast master: The beast shouts six six six, and the beast master holds the sun and the moon to pick up the stars!

As a fake beast master, Chen Wen said that the pet beasts are all for him to bond with.

- Description from novelbuddy

He was supposed to transmigrate to a magic world, but due to an accident, he ended up trapped in a massive library. The system assigned him a task: for every book he read, he would be rewarded with mana stones, until he finished reading all the books. A trillion years later, Daniel finally finished the last book! [Ding, detecting that the host has finished the final book. Calculating system rewards.] [Ding, reward calculation complete. Dispatching rewards. The total number of mana stones the host has accumulated: 99999999...9999.] “Damn, am I that rich now?” [Ding, detecting that the host has completed the task. Loading world...] ... Goddess of Fate: “Daniel, my divine realm needs expansion. Could you sponsor me with some mana stones?” God of Storm: “Daniel, the divine punishment is about to descend. Could you lend me some power to help me get through it?”

Aidan was thrust into this word of death and magic against his will. He was weak, Frail and pathetic but his unyielding hardwork led him to the peak where he sits unrivaled, Now he tries to find other ways to cure his unending bordom.Netorase—Netorare—Overpowered—Harem—Elf’s—Giants—Incest—

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.”