The pinnacle of power: starting with having sex with a female leader - Chapter 464 - 0: Miscalculated the Strength of Both Sides

Nikola Tesla, the genius, a man who lost everything to balant capitalism and betrayal, awakens to find himself reborn as an orphan. What is this world? Why is he here? And will he once again fall for the capitalistic betrayal or pave his own way? What would happen if his genius adapts to cunningness of the society?

Yan Mu Lin, who just got the Best Male CV award, was killed in an accident, but fate made him traverse into another world.

In there, he has more opportunities to showcase his talent. His goal is…

Shao Nuo Yu: to assist his husband and educate the children.

Yan Mu Lin: ……

The otakus who loved to express their shock and regret: （ ⊙ o ⊙ ）

Pan Jinlian‘s CV is actually male, male, male……

Lin Daiyu‘s CV is actually male, male, male……

Daji‘s CV is actually male, male, male……

The drama / movie fans who loved to express their astonishment: （*@ο@*）

X superstar’s voice in this TV drama is super sexy~~

X film emperor’s voice in this movie sounds really distressed~~

X female lead’s voice in this movie sounds really heartbroken~~

They found out that the superstar, film emperor, and female lead unexpectedly had the same CV!

In the end, who is it?! Who is it?!

- Description from Novelupdates

Chu Feng was transmigrated to a world of tamers, where everyone would gain their unique tamer talent at the age of 16. With the tamer talent, one could create a tamer space and form a contract with a beast.

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.”