Five-Year Old Prophet is Pampered by Ten Brothers - Chapter 281 - Past Events of the White Family

A man dies and for some mysterious reason is given three wishes.The man, a pervert and even degenerate (just a little), asked to be sent to a world full of sex and lust, just for pure fun, unfortunately he was not very specific and ended up going to a world much bigger than he could imagine.His other wish was the System he read in one of the many stories he read, the System of [The Gamer], which due to various reasons, perhaps due to laziness of the person who created it, the System is not 100% identical.But this didn't affect our protagonist much, who had the opportunity to create his own appearance and decided for nothing less than a hot Futanari with a big dick!

One day, a villainess came to the orphanage.“I absolutely can’t stand children!”“How can someone my age have a child? It doesn’t make sense!”“What’s so great about these little creatures that tire you out all day long…”Setting aside her dislike for children…Somehow, after she arrived, the children started gaining weight.“It’s all because of the contract, you know?”That’s what she says.While personally feeding them sweets she made herself.

Riding out the apocalypse on a tropical island isn't exactly a vacation. When mana arrives on Earth, Coop finds himself isolated in paradise with only one real option to survive. He needs to claim a civilization shard and level up. Coop maximizes his chances by carefully selecting a class and committing to progression. He’ll need to grind thousands of monsters to compete on the system's leaderboards while upgrading his settlement to represent the factionless.

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.”