MTL - Conan: Open the Door, I’m a Policeman - v3 Chapter 86 Surprised or not surprised

Lake is reincarnated as the next holder of the insider system. Will he find his grand purpose or just do whatever he wishes. Follow him as he lies his way to power.

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Manipulative MC, no love, Big Harem, Cruel, MILFsMC is an employee in the plot enhancement department of a company that entertains the constellations.His role is to act as the villain, and he is the star employee for this villainous role.He moves within different novel plots, manipulating heroines, farming fate values from sons of heavens, and achieving the end goals suggested by the constellations for those plot endings.While the plot varies according to the assigned world, what remains common is his presence as a villainous character, with not necessarily the presence of other characters like heroines and sons of heaven.For the story introducing MC, it is set in an urban cultivation world where he has been assigned to act as Damien Raphael, heir of the Raphael Group.He finds himself in a face-slapping event with a son of heaven and deals with him accordingly, as this is his daily job.

My brother* and I, from elementary school to university, had grown up together. We didn’t just get into the same degree, we’re also sharing the same dormitory room.

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.”