MTL - Her Majesty’s Modern Harem - Chapter 72 】

The dark underground dungeon was filled with countless ancient relics and treasures. Eerie, deformed, cursed objects... The abyss, catacombs, Ancient Gods, mythical races... Mechanics, cursed seal implants, and the gargantuan black towers... A peculiar mix of Alchemy, a drop of steampunk, two spoons of supernatural mystery, blending into a vibrant and colorful fantasy world. I am a puppeteer Alchemist. All that my eyes behold, becomes my puppet. Alone, I am an army!

Magic. It is a product of neither legends nor fairy tales, but instead has become a technology of reality since a time unknown to people. Supernatural power became a technology systematized through magic, while magic became a technical skill. A “Supernatural Power User” became a “Magic Technician”. Magic Technicians (in short, Magicians) are nurtured through Magic High Schools and Universities. This is a story about: A defective elder brother and low achiever. A perfect, flawless younger sister and high achiever. After both siblings entered a Magic High School, The stage of daily turbulence was unveiled —.

In the ‘90s era, Adrian Cowell was just a rich young man living it up in Los Angeles who had spent years in indulgence and often caused trouble. Unable to allow his behavior to continue, his parents changed their will before their passing and he was no longer able to live as extravagantly as he did before. However, Adrian's fate took a turn one night while trying to fix his bedside lamp which led to Zhang Haoxuan, a man from the future who had time-traveled after being intoxicated, to possess his body.Assuming his new identity as ‘Adrian’, he utilizes his absurd memory for films in his former life as Zhang Haoxuan, as well as Adrian’s wealth and connections, to replicate films that have been produced in the future — determined to dominate the Hollywood scene.Watch Adrian as he rises to be the king of Hollywood, a figure who will be envied by many!

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.”