MTL - Swallowed Star - v17 Chapter 35 Ten kings

In this world, there is the beautiful mutual and telepathy love.

What if your worst enemies suddenly became your most devoted allies—because you turned them into irresistible, enchanting femboys?Meet Cecil: a cunning, ruthless mastermind hiding an extraordinary power beneath his calm exterior. With a single stroke of his feathered pen, he transforms those who dare to cross him into beautiful, loyal members of his ever-growing harem. But this isn’t some silly game—it's a calculated campaign to build a nation unlike any other.In a world of secrets, magic, and brutal politics, Cecil must navigate a treacherous landscape filled with dangerous foes and hidden agendas. His targets? Only those who insult, threaten, or betray him. His allies? A charming, fiercely loyal band of femboys who live by his side in a shadowy sanctuary.If you think power is all about strength and magic, think again. For Cecil, true power lies in control, seduction, and a pen that changes fate.Welcome to the Velvet Court—where loyalty is beautiful, and revenge is intoxicating.

【Light-hearted and humorous + No female lead + No knives + Survivalist protagonist】- caution, this story is engaging.Chen Xun traversed into the vast and boundless world of cultivation, awakening the Immortal Ascension System, which unexpectedly granted him a companion, a long-lived spiritual beast.I, Chen Xun, have no interest in fighting or killing, nor do I wish to provoke anyone. I only want to travel the world with my old ox and witness all the worldly splendors. However, one day, I inadvertently discovered a secret….

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.”