My Evil Crown Prince - Chapter 33: Friends Help Each Other

While they mine for gold, I dig graves.While they use healing ointment, I munch on graveyard grass.While they take Mana Potions, I light incense and candles.While they meditate to recover, I rest in a coffin,While they attack with magic, I retaliate by tossing paper money....Let's see how a skeleton turns the tables in an online game, stirring up chaos to become the ultimate boss!

The king of assassins was reborn, mastering both alchemy and poison. Sitting inside the space, there was a ghost that loved crying.

Travel through the world of pirates and get the red police explosion system, with tens of billions of explosive troops, subvert the world!

He is known as the worst criminal in history. In order to kill the admiral, he sent millions of soldiers. He is known as the world’s worst criminal!

His mind-controlling device can transform the navy: “Five old stars, take a look, in the navy, which one of us has more people?”

His self-explosive soldiers frightened cp0, and his radiation soldiers made the four emperors retreat.

His super-time air soldiers made Tianlong people sleepless, and his super weapons and bullets made the general escape from danger…

“I’m here to give you an ultimatum! You’ve been surrounded by me!” On top of the war, Ren stood alone on the top floor of the Navy Headquarters, watching the two sides fighting and said calmly.

At the same time, a channel was opened behind him, hundreds of millions of mobilized soldiers, magnetic blast infantry, biochemical soldiers, self-explosive soldiers, pilots… tens of millions of prismatic tanks, aircraft cannons, and even super weapons, yes For the superhumans present!

“Wuluoxing, how many teachers do you have?”

(explosive flow)

- 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.”