Demon King of the Royal Class - Chapter 374

I once believed I was the heroine of a modern fairytale, blessed with beauty, wealth, intelligence, and a powerful legacy. Men adored me, women envied me, and I was engaged to the most desirable man, Cole Fay. My life seemed perfect, a dream where I held the starring role. But on my eighteenth birthday, that illusion crumbled. The truth hit me hard: I wasn’t the protagonist, nor even the villain or a side character. I was just cannon fodder, a disposable part of someone else’s story. But when fate recognized the cruel joke of my life, I was granted a second chance. This time, I’ll write my own story, living for myself. And this time . . . I will never love you again.

“With my knowledge, give me a fulcrum on which to place it and I shall move the world!”

Finding a strange orb, Jayden finds himself turning into a vampire. Strange quests start to appear in front of him, sending him to different worlds.

He finds himself playing different roles in different worlds, as he gets stronger and gets the most beautiful women from each world.

“ So, you want to save your son, impossible. The treason he committed can't be forgiven. ”

“ Please, *sob* I'm begging you. I'll do anything if you spare him. ”

Jayden looks at the breath-taking beauty kneeling in front of him, as a sly smile appears on his face.

“ Anything, you say. Then...”

******

Using his mind control abilities, Jayden will become the richest, strongest vampire, and have lots of beautiful women in his harem.

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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.”