Supreme Harem God System - Chapter 1398 I will be the Strongest.

When his wife left without a word when they were young, he entrusted their child to his mother and spiraled into despair, drowning his sorrows in alcohol.Sixteen years passed in a blur, and his daughter was diagnosed with depression.As she lay on the hospital bed, she struggled to smile.“Dad, I don't blame you, and I never blamed Mom. If I have another life, I still want to be your child, but please, don't leave me again.”With that, she closed her eyes and departed from this world.It felt like something tore apart in the depths of his heart.Gu Chen fell into a coma.Upon awakening again, his two-year-old daughter was calling him “Daddy” with a sweet smile and a childish voice.He was reborn!This time, he vowed to make up for his regrets towards his daughter, to hold his wife's hand and never let her go.This time, he was determined to change everything!

In the world of Norse mythology, a human boy falls in love with Waltraute, the fourth Valkyrie sister. He wishes to marry her, but Waltraute gives him an impossible challenge to deter him.

Nevertheless, the boy is determined to carry out the dangerous task and to marry Waltraute afterwards.

It began with an accident, or maybe a miracle is a better term. Three souls dying by different strokes. One died in glory and blood; One died, betrayed but glad it was over; One died poor and alone. Then on the child’s fifth birthday, the three sleeping souls awakened. Three souls, one body, two desires, and containing all the powers each had in their last life. Were they destined for greatness? No. But when the past comes to haunt them, their home taken away, they have to make a decision… May it be as simple as a majority vote.“Let’s squash them!”“...can we just run away?“Were you never taught to aim for the eyes?”

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.”