Young Master Damien's Pet - Chapter 690 Realization- Part 3

In North America, there are many paths to power and wealth. Hawke plunged into Los Angeles and chose the entertainment and media industry. The media is like the sun, not only showing the bright side. Every word and every picture that appears in the media is carefully designed to guide public opinion and manipulate the public.Unofficial translation of 洛杉矶之狼 by 白色十三号

Levelling up?Gods System?After dying from overwork, Harry awakens in a world where humanity fights for survival against relentless alien invaders, each person’s fate determined by a power they awaken on their tenth birthday.With his own tenth birthday looming, Harry chooses a seemingly weak ability, a decision that marks him as an outcast.But beneath the surface of this unassuming power lies a connection to ancient gods and a potential far beyond anything the world has seen.Armed with the mysterious System of the Gods, Harry must navigate a world teeming with treachery and secrets, where betrayal lurks around every corner. The alien threat, ever-adapting and evolving, doesn’t rest, growing stronger with each passing moment.As Harry struggles to master his newfound powers, he uncovers dark truths about the origins of the alien invaders—truths that could shatter everything he thought he knew.The fate of humanity teeters on the edge, and Harry’s true awakening is only just beginning.

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.”