MTL - From Becoming the Master of Monsters - Chapter 149 Yuto: Actually, I am an Onmyoji

In a world where power reigns supreme, Zoey Monroe was born with nothing. Labeled “Mana-less” in a society of Hunters, she was the stain on the prestigious Monroe Family, a shame to one of Sunrow City's most powerful bloodlines. Ridiculed, ostracized, and treated as less than human, Zoey endured years of scorn.Until one day, at seventeen, she made a choice—to leave it all behind.Six months later, struggling to make ends meet in the city, Zoey’s life takes an unexpected turn. After another grueling day at work, she returns home, only to witness a dungeon rift tearing open behind her apartment.Drawn by curiosity—and the desperate hunger for change—she steps inside. But the dungeon is merciless. Death looms over her, suffocating, inevitable... until—[Enough Mana Has Been Accumulated!][Error! A mysterious system has already been bound to the host. Adjusting...][Ding! Installing the A Hundred Times System!]In an instant, Zoey's fate is rewritten. From outcast to overpowered, from weakling to warrior—the path to greatness has begun.This is her story.

Six years ago, the legitimate daughter of the Chu Family was schemed against by her half-sister and was forced to marry the Princely Heir, who was blind and not long for this world.Fortunately, her medical skills were excellent, and she detoxified the Princely Heir.Who would have thought after he came back to life, the emperor would actually want to bestow a concubine upon him—and this jerk didn't even refuse.Furious, she left a divorce letter and then set the Prince Residence on fire, fleeing in haste.Six years later, the same Princely Heir remained a lonely man, with all his old servants worrying their hearts out.One day, upon encountering a Little Baozi on the street who looked strikingly like the Princely Heir, they instantly burst into tears.“The Prince Residence has a successor! Princely Heir, please come back with us to the Prince Residence quickly.”Who knew, Little Baozi disdainfully said, “Not interested.”“Princely Heir, the Prince Residence is immensely wealthy...”“My mother is the wealthiest person!”“Princely Heir, the Prince Residence is extremely safe...”“My mother is the Martial Arts Alliance Hierarch!”“Princely Heir, the Prince Residence has powerful armies...”“My mother is the heir to the Nanduan Kingdom!”Suddenly, a faint voice came from behind: “Then, does your mother need an Imperial Consort? I think myself quite suitable.”

At the beginning of the game, there is a small broken boat, and the whole family lives on the boat, which is leaking from wind and rain.

Huo Xi didn’t panic at all, rowed the small broken boat vigorously and started to make a fortune. If you don’t pay attention, you will become a rich man in the south of the Yangtze River.

It’s time to return to Beijing to take revenge and regain your identity. Take mine and return it! Eat mine and spit it out!

A black-bellied person: It’s lonely alone, why don’t you take me with you?

Huo Xixing’s eyes widened: Hurry up and hand over Xie Jin and leave! Don’t delay my sacking.

A black-bellied person: I won’t leave. How dare you play tricks on the grace of saving your life? Since then, you should promise each other with your body, be like a cow or a horse, and let yourself be driven.

Huo Xi: Huh? Set sacks together?

A black belly: go!

- Description from novelbuddy

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.”