Fantasy: I Did Not Raise The Divine Beasts - Chapter 1379 - Showing (1)

Zhang Ye was originally a mundane college graduate with aspiring dreams to become a star, but unfortunately has below average looks and height. However one day, he woke up and suddenly found himself in a parallel world!

[Initializing Harem System of the Demonic Dragon God]“Damn! I was right!”He received the greatest gift of all, a System!A world of cultivation, where the strongest rule! The man took the place of Strax Vorah, a noble abandoned by his family that worships the Sword.With an insane desire to become the strongest of all, he now wants to have the most powerful wives!________________Additional tags: Fantasy - Adventure - Action - Romance - Harem - R18 - No NTR - No Yuri - Weak to Strong - Bloodlines - Evolution

A nuclear war ushered in the prosperity of human evolution! The higher the bloodline level, the stronger! The young Mo Tian, ​​awakened at the beginning of the S-class King Kong is not bad blood, incarnates the big muscle tyrant, killing all the way! If you are reasonable with me, be reasonable, and if you are not reasonable, you will be blown away!

The blood of King Kong is not bad for the first time to return to the ancestors…the second time to return to the ancestors…the Nth time to return to the ancestors, the blood of Pangu! (The killing is decisive, the extreme way pushes the flow horizontally, if you are not a virgin, do not enter if you are not happy)…

- 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.”