Three Treasures: Spoiled Wife Goes Wild - Chapter 1750: And There’s Oliver Battleson

Yuuta was the weakest, most average guy on Earth—barely surviving college, working a part-time job, and raised in a quiet orphanage with no real family to call his own. But everything changed the night he had a vivid dream... of marrying a stunning, powerful Dragon Queen from another world.He woke up thinking it was just a dream. Until she showed up in his room—with wings, horns, and a daughter who calls him Papa.Turns out, it wasn’t a dream. And now Yuuta’s life is anything but normal.With half her power sealed, the Dragon Queen—Erza—is stuck living in the human world, adapting to cramped apartments, dishwashing shifts, and the chaos of Earth. Yuuta, once a lonely soul, suddenly finds himself with a family, a responsibility, and feelings he never knew he was capable of.As fatherhood, monsters, magical secrets, and mysterious enemies creep into his life, Yuuta must rise—not as a hero, but as a man who has something worth protecting.

Absurd! Reincarnating as a newborn in a demon-infested world, the overturning system arrived 30 years early.[At 30, after enduring endless hardships, you have achieved nothing and remain a loner. Reward: Late Bloomer (Talent) - Effect: The older your bones, the faster you cultivate.][Overturning mission: Defeat Chen Yuan at the sixth level of the Guiyuan Realm within a year. Reward: Swordsmanship entry-level]One-year-old Chen Yi looked at the content on the panel, then down at his small arms and legs, falling into deep thought.'Damn! This system definitely arrived too early!''I'm only a year old, what good is the Late Bloomer talent now?''And Chen Yuan of the Guiyuan Realm...'...Years later, war reports came from the frontlines.'The Tianyuan Continent’s top ten martial arts prodigy, Champion Marquis of the Wei Dynasty, the Amorous Young Master, Sword Saint Chen Yi, slaughtered 100,000 demons on the battlefield of Taizhou Mountain to celebrate for the human race!'However, Chen Yi looked at the battlefield flowing with rivers of blood and shook his head:'I’ve been making overturn since I was one, experiencing countless life and death situations to achieve my current cultivation level. It’s not surprising you can’t resist!'Those 'life and death' crises were terrifyingly daunting.The big brother at one year old, childhood sweetheart at five, senior brother at ten, princess at a tender age...Who understands my hardships?PS: Infant stream, system-arriving-early stream, light-hearted, humorous, passionate.PPS: Also known as 'Starting the Overturn as an Infant', 'Reborn as an Infant, What an Overturn! ', 'Talking is Useless, It's Time to Fight.'

She was the most unpopular female wolf in the New Moon Pack, as lowly as a blade of grass. Eight years ago, her mother went missing, her father was killed, and her entire pack was exterminated. Thus, she had been demoted to the lowest servant level by her father’s murderer. For eight years, she had been beaten, cursed, and starved, but she kept her identity a secret.

This year, she turned eighteen years old.

He was the alpha of the largest werewolf pack in all of America and shone like the sun. With his perfectly sculpted face and a tremendous amount of money, no werewolf didn’t know his name, and he was the dream lover of every woman. Everything seemed perfect, except for the fact that he didn’t have a mate yet.

This year, he turned twenty-six years old.

What kind of spark or conflict would there be when they meet by chance?

“Rose, I can give you everything you want. In exchange, you have to be mine.”

“Alpha, the truth is, I’m—”

“Oh, Jesus f*cking Christ! Now, you will never escape me, my Luna.

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.”