The Reigning Star: Tycoon's Exclusive Obsession - Chapter 11 I Like You, So I Want to Marry You!

A human from Earth is thrust into the [Hunter x Hunter] world, becoming the Zoldyck family’s defiant, red-eyed prodigy. They call me a genius and the rightful heir, but I say that’s Killua’s burden to bear.Armed with crimson eyes, and a subtle yet powerful system, I’ll rewrite destiny, upend the world, and embrace the chaos with a wicked grin.

Teenage earth dweller Lu Qingfeng died in a car accident and traversed to a world of cultivation.He acquired the Login Ring of “Primordial”, a massive immersive online game developed by the Earth Federation two thousand years later, and travelled across primordial worlds.

Ashen was a man from earth.His job?Nothing he just helped lonely women who didn't get enough love from their Husbands with his huge dragon of love.He didn't left any prey who he had his eyes on, whether it be Mom or daughter, all would be caught in his lustful hands.But after getting in an accident, he is reincarnated into a useless Prince's Body in a cultivation world.[Ding! Welcome Host I am the Villainous System]Ashen: “Villainous System? What is that?”[Ding! This world has innumerable protagonists but only few villains, therefore, to maintain the balance you have been brought into this world and I am here to help you in your journey]A sinister smile hanged on Ashen's lips as he muttered: “Doesn't that mean I can do all that I want”[Ding! No host, you are the useless prince now, You need to become powerful to do that]Ashen's smile retracted for a few second before appearing again: “Oh, I am a Prince? Then shouldn't I have a harem?”

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.”