Industrial Cthulhu: Starting as an Island Lord - Chapter 163: You Are Not the Machine Soul at All!

When she was ten, she said, “When I grow up, I want to be the President!”“It's impossible, but you can be the President's wife,” he replied.He gazed at her tenderly. His youthful eyes filled with deep affection, as if he wanted to give her the whole world.When she was thirty-three, due to a leak of military secrets, she was imprisoned for treason, and she saw his signature on the death sentence document.She finally understood that the so-called undying love was fake, and that power and status were the true goals.Love is just like a ghost—more talked about than seen....Reborn and back to the age of twenty, she opened her eyes and shouted, “I must be the President!”“But, Madam... Your husband is already the President,” someone said.She was stunned for only a second, then viciously replied, “Then I'll take him down first, and I'll become the President!”A man gently pushed open the half-closed door, chuckling softly, “Did I hear wrong? Sweetie, you want to... take me down?”

The boy born with cursed eyes, said to be the traitor of all races.Discriminated against all his life will he fight back, or be consumed by hatred? Or will he learn to rise above it?In the world of magic... the Order of Arcane, filled with seven top races, all united by one thing: hating the color of his eyes and a certain name.This kid shall pay for a crime he never committed, etched with seven mythical curses by who? Who knows.How to release them? Solve the seven Akashi riddles.Will he win? Or just become another forgotten page in the history books of Eldarado?There are three primary types of magic: Normal. Racial. Unique.He awakens all of them.Normal: Well maybe not so normal for him.Racial: ??Unique: ??And one final question whispered in the shadows of forgotten historyWho is the true, declared heir to the Obsidian Throne.

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.”

Throughout the Ming Kingdom, Jun Hua was famous for being a useless girl without any talent worthy of praise. Everyone mocked her, belittling her for latching onto her brilliant brother Jun Min, the young and peerless general admired as the most talented prodigy for his talent and his ability to change the fate of the declining Jun Family.

Never in their wildest dreams would they have suspected that Jun Hua is the young general who is leading the army on the frontline, Jun Min!

“She has no talent as a girl, but has the brilliance of a great general!”

Her journey towards revenge is something she has to do on her own. And yet, on that path she will gain allies, friends, and possibly even...... a romance?

This is Jun Hua's story, a story that shall be carved into history as the legend of “the flower who blooms from the battlefields”.