MTL - Supreme Uprising - Chapter 1468 Hard to shape the Lord of the World

“Old Tang, you activated speed-related Genetic Base Points. What’s the direction of those Base Points?”

This question caused Tang Ting to have a melancholic expression.

“It’s… Hand speed…” “And the right hand at that!”

Xu Tui slipped onto a daze.

Hand speed and the right hand. This image…

Didn’t the teacher say that it was easier to activate the Base Points of the areas you use the most?

“Old Tang, just what do you use your hands for?”

{MATURE — The female lead, Elara, is a plus-size lady. This isn't a book about her losing weight or going on a weight-loss journey. This is a book where she embraces her size and loves herself after everything.}BILLIONAIRE/WEREWOLFI was born a maid in the pack, unwanted, unloved, and unseen. They said I was the daughter of a servant and that I should be grateful to even breathe the same air as elites. But what no one knew was that I wasn’t who they thought I was. I was stolen from my destiny, stripped of my name, and buried in a life that was never mine.When I finished school, I was given a job at Blueberries Pack Company. It was already falling apart, but I worked day and night to keep it alive. Still, nothing I did mattered. The Alpha’s precious daughter stole my ideas, my recognition, and even the man I thought I loved. I was used to silence, to being unseen, until he appeared.Darlon. The Alpha King. A name spoken with fear and awe. They said he was old, heartless, and cruel. I didn’t know him, and I never imagined our paths would cross. But when the Alpha and his Luna grew desperate to save their company, they forced me to marry him in their daughter’s place.I walked down that aisle expecting the worst…But what awaited me on the other side was nothing I could have ever imagined.I didn’t know it then, but the man I had married wasn’t a stranger at all… He was my fated mateAnd through him, I began to uncover the truth about my past, my bloodline, and the power that had been sleeping inside me all along.

One minute, I was a medical doctor rushing to work. The next, I woke up as a lowly omega inside the pages of my favorite werewolf novel The Psycho Alpha.Alpha Zachary Black. The cruel, ruthless, dangerously sexy Alpha of the Redwood Pack. The same man who kills anyone who breathes wrong around him. Especially women.He hates them. Despises weakness. And he definitely doesn’t believe in love. And he chose me as his personal omega. But there’s something wrong with me. I can hear his thoughts. Not just random thoughts. Dirty thoughts. Dark, possessive, obsessive ones about me. His so-called “personal omega.”He thinks I’m weak, fragile, breakable… but he also wants to ruin me, claim me, devour me. Every time he looks at me, his inner voice screams things his lips would never dare say out loud.I should be afraid of him. I should run far, far away. But how do you escape someone who owns your body and now, wants your soul?Worse, he’s starting to suspect I’m not who I say I am. Because I’m not just Christy, the omega. I’m a stranger in this world, trying to survive a plot I already know ends in blood.

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.”