My Beloved Dog is the Strongest in Another World - Chapter 575

[Invincible, showoff, face-slapping, feelgood]“Who is richer? Sorry, Every watch I have is worth billions. Money is just a number to me!”“Wanna fight? Fine, I won't even use my hands and feet. I've never lost a fight in my life!”“You like me? Sorry, even a cruise ship is not big enough to hold all the women I have. Haven't you seen the princess of Anenida lining up for me?”With the invincible system, everything can be easily accomplished.Please don't show off in front of me. I have a nickname called Face-slapping Zhang!

It’s an anonymous community; please don’t get your identity exposed.

After being reborn in a sci-fi ABO world, Xi Wei became the newly born son of the Imperial King. He thought, as the emperor’s son he could live a carefree and imposing life, but unexpectedly the First Prince is actually an omega? What the hell is an Omega?

There was an alpha who was born on the same day as the First Prince Xi Wei, the two children grew up together. When Xi Wei looked at the blonde child next door, he always felt that the boy was not pleasing to the eye, so as a child Xi Wei bullied him.

Until many years later …

Looking at the man standing in front of him who was one head taller than him, Xi Wei was dumbfounded.

–He tried to get out of the way, but eventually still fell into his childhood sweetheart’s clutches.

- Description from Novelupdates

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.”