MTL - The Lord’s Empire - v2 Chapter 3368 Sea fish

[Congratulations Seo Hoyun! You have been selected as a player in the Unknown Idol Tycoon.]The good-for-nothing PD, who is criticized by everyone, becomes a unknown idol in a parallel world.Only his younger sibling remembers him.To return to the original world, he must become a top idol and clear the game!“…Quest accepted.”“Are you crazy?”“Don’t we need to eat and live?”His specialty is blackmailing, his hobby is persuasion.The survival story of the unscrupulous PD-turned-idol who will stop at nothing!

The “Dog Emperor” gets adopted by his fake “Favored Consort.” This story follows their story as they experiences all sorts of trials in the imperial harem and find true love.

The dog king will recover his human body.

This is not a legitimate harem drama novel – there will be love, there will be pampering.

Enormous silver platters, shocking melodramas, all part of the package.

Looking at his own concubines and imperial offspring from a doggy’s perspective:

Who used to be the sweet and gentle eloquent flower turns out to be a venus fly trap behind the scenes.

Who used to be the filial and courteous, intelligent and adorable imperial princes and princesses transform into demons in a flash.

The progression (of the story) overturns understandings and unmask countless illusions.

But by the protection of the gods, the dog emperor met a healing owner. Although the path is rough, the end is pleasant.

- 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.”

Death, Depression, Poverty, Love issues – all things that a 27-year no-name writer faces.