MTL - Salted Fish Handed Over the Binding System - Chapter 53 a group of gods

Lucia grew up not knowing she was a princess.

In an alternate timeline of Warhammer 30k, the Emperor of Mankind discovers the Independence Cluster, a group of technologically advanced worlds that have preserved Dark Age of Technology knowledge. Here, He encounters His first found Primarch, Franklin Valorian, known as the Symbol of Liberty.The charismatic and humorous Valorian, standing 15 feet tall, meets the Emperor with a mix of curiosity and irreverence. Unlike others, Valorian sees the Emperor as a powerful but regular man with a greater purpose, akin to a superhero.

“He is the entertainment king who is in charge of everything. Been single for years, he had zero scandal. One day, a woman and a girl turned his life upside down.

The little cutie held him tight, not letting go. “”Handsome uncle, you look very much like the daddy I have lost for many years!”” Huo Yunshen felt depressed. “Me? Daddy?!”

The little cutie proudly pulled her mommy over, “”Mommy, I have found a long-term meal ticket for you, handsome and gullible.””

Xu Xiyan smiled at the elegant man.

Recalling the accident five years ago, his face sank. “”How dare you steal my DNA?””

She laughed. “”Not steal, just borrow!”” The man took her in his arms and warned in a dangerous tone, “”Woman, should I get what’s mine back, with interest?””

She stood on her toes. “”Yeah, how about another baby?”””

- 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.”