The Aloof Prince Pampers His Wild First Rate Consort - Chapter 91

Raised as nothing more than a weapon, Xin Long was kidnapped and forged into a killer — his freedom severed, his name reduced to a whisper. In a world where trust is a death wish and mercy is a myth, he treads a path of blood and betrayal, outwitting ruthless foes and surviving inhuman trials. Yet, the deeper he delves into the shadows of Jianghu, the more he unravels a web of dark secrets that bind the martial world.Step into the dark side of Jianghu and witness the so-called Forgotten Tale — a story never meant to be told...

A class full of idols and beautiful people are sent to another world. However there is one guy who is ugly, fat and smells… our protagonist. This is his comedic story of evolution and the slow building of his harem. The first heroine is a gorilla.

Son of the Senior Chancellor, Luo Wei, loved the wrong person in his past life. This mistake caused his entire family to be wiped out, and in the end, he was cast down as a pleasure slave, and died in the wilderness during the depths of winter.

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.”