MTL - I Built a Territory in Ancient Times - Chapter 31 Festival

“He is the entertainment king who is in charge of everything. Been single for years, he had zero scandal. One day, a woman and a girl turned his life upside down.

The little cutie held him tight, not letting go. “”Handsome uncle, you look very much like the daddy I have lost for many years!”” Huo Yunshen felt depressed. “Me? Daddy?!”

The little cutie proudly pulled her mommy over, “”Mommy, I have found a long-term meal ticket for you, handsome and gullible.””

Xu Xiyan smiled at the elegant man.

Recalling the accident five years ago, his face sank. “”How dare you steal my DNA?””

She laughed. “”Not steal, just borrow!”” The man took her in his arms and warned in a dangerous tone, “”Woman, should I get what’s mine back, with interest?””

She stood on her toes. “”Yeah, how about another baby?”””

- Description from Novelupdates

Warning:

1. MC is a mad hound.

2. The story is R-17.99 as the title suggests.

——————

Ansel of Hydral, the Empire's most notorious villain, devours a peculiar being known as a “Traveller”.

In doing so, he glimpses a future of despair, a foreordained future featuring a war-god who can shatter armies, a saint bearing great sins, a mage discerning the truth, and a heroine of unassailable morality... These formidable “she” would destroy his family, his empire, everything he holds dear.

Upon truly recognizing the cruelty and weight of fate, Ansel has an epiphany.

“If the Empire requires reform, then there is no need for a so-called protagonist. Armed with this knowledge, I can effect change far more efficiently.”

“And as for you, the world's chosen ones...”

“If destiny dictates that you cannot be obliterated, then I have no option but to make you fall... fall with me to the very end of the abyss.”

In essence, this is a tale of a villain rebelling against fate, taming the chosen daughters of heaven, all while orchestrating a transformative revolution in the world.

……………………………………………………………

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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.”