Pampered Poisonous Royal Wife - Chapter 1231 Who Are They (1)

Betrayed by his former gang and thrown into the Rendhold Underprison, Dantes has spent the last five years scraping by. A whoreson of orcish, human, and elvish blood, he's lived on the periphery of the periphery, lying, cheating, and stealing to survive. After a run of bad luck, he's made a powerful enemy. Luckily, he's also gotten all the tools he needs to turn things around.A slow burn progression fantasy focused on rising through the criminal underworld of a city-state using newfound powers and quick wits.MC's powers will develop slowly, but he will use them in creative ways to get ahead, and in the meantime he's not above just braining someone with a club.Anti-hero/villainous MC with a code.

You boiled two eggs, Culinary skills +1.

You chewed a mouthful of cereal, your jaw is strengthened.

You are riding a bicycle, driving ability +1

you gazed at the beauty, your mood is very pleasant, your kidney function has been strengthened, Appraisal ability +1.

You see elderly women dancing in the public square, you can’t help but want to swing with their rhythm, dance skills +1.

You glanced at the newspaper, your reading ability is strengthened, knowledge experience +1.

You sneezed, your disease resistance has improved.

You took cold medicine, toxin resistance is improved, medicine proficiency +1.

You observe nurse use injection, your basic medical skills are strengthened, medical skills +1.

…… I don’t know what’s going on, my strength is improving even if I’m drinking cold water. I don’t want to stop, but I’m so worried…

- Description from Novelupdates

I got sucked into a novel full of villains and must tame them in order to survive!

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.”