Becoming God Of A Dystopian World - Chapter 85: Fighting The Puppets IV

{MATURE — The female lead, Elara, is a plus-size lady. This isn't a book about her losing weight or going on a weight-loss journey. This is a book where she embraces her size and loves herself after everything.}BILLIONAIRE/WEREWOLFI was born a maid in the pack, unwanted, unloved, and unseen. They said I was the daughter of a servant and that I should be grateful to even breathe the same air as elites. But what no one knew was that I wasn’t who they thought I was. I was stolen from my destiny, stripped of my name, and buried in a life that was never mine.When I finished school, I was given a job at Blueberries Pack Company. It was already falling apart, but I worked day and night to keep it alive. Still, nothing I did mattered. The Alpha’s precious daughter stole my ideas, my recognition, and even the man I thought I loved. I was used to silence, to being unseen, until he appeared.Darlon. The Alpha King. A name spoken with fear and awe. They said he was old, heartless, and cruel. I didn’t know him, and I never imagined our paths would cross. But when the Alpha and his Luna grew desperate to save their company, they forced me to marry him in their daughter’s place.I walked down that aisle expecting the worst…But what awaited me on the other side was nothing I could have ever imagined.I didn’t know it then, but the man I had married wasn’t a stranger at all… He was my fated mateAnd through him, I began to uncover the truth about my past, my bloodline, and the power that had been sleeping inside me all along.

You know the drill, a medical student was watching the finale episode of Pokemon. “Man can't believe it's finally over. Looking at his clock, Shoot I'm going to be late.” But our protagonist met our old friend Truck-kun due to a change in destiny. “At least things aren't so bad I get to start my Journey, wait why am I Ash, Why is almost everything and everyone different, and why is this world so much harder than the original?!”Additional Tags: Maybe-Harem, Not stupid MC, multiple plot lines, Random decisions from dice rollsNo dead pokemon parts to increase strengthNo potential stuffOnly training methods and bond________________________So hey, this is my first fanfic, Please don't murder me, secondly, this is an AU with anime, games, and manga elements, with a bit of the novel. Earlier chapters are ruff, but I think the later ones get better.Also if you have a complaint, Idea, criticism, or whatever, fell free to say it I love reading feedback from you all

Anastasia Harrison, a young woman abused by her cruel family, thought her life was over when they forced her to marry Richard, the sleazy black sheep of the wealthy Wallace family. Meanwhile, her favored younger sister, Michelle, was set to marry Xavier, the elder brother, who was a CEO.Yet, an error at city hall ended up swapping their names on their respective marriage certificates.“What is this?! How are you married to Xavier Wallace?”“You're not getting any food or water until you sign the divorce papers!”To add fuel to the fire, the old Mr. and Mrs. Harrison passed away, leaving all their assets to Anastasia and not the rest of the family. This drove the Harrisons to their breaking point. To trade for a peaceful life, Anastasia was willing to leave her inheritance and leave the family, but the Harrisons had other plans in mind.They wanted to get rid of her. Permanently.However, it was by a stroke of luck that Anastasia was found by her new husband, Xavier, before her family succeeded. Determined to get her revenge, she struck a deal with Xavier.“Continue to be my wife and I will help you get your revenge!”

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.”