Regressor Instruction Manual - Chapter 81: The Third Job (7)

A struggling businessman on the verge of bankruptcy finds himself drunk one night, only to wake up in the past—specifically, in 1943 London, amidst the chaos of World War II.This is an era of both immense danger and unprecedented opportunity. It is a time when the British Empire, once the unrivaled superpower where the sun never set, is finally witnessing the dusk of its dominion. Meanwhile, the United States is rising to claim the mantle of global leadership, reshaping the world's balance of power.This is the era where everything begins—where old rulers step down and new powers rise to take their place. This is the era where Pierre finds himself, an era filled with the kind of opportunity he never had before. A small, precious chance to rise, to become a giant, to seize the throne of power, to become a ruler, a world hegemon.

Lin Qing He transmigrated into a novel and became one of its cannon fodders. The novel’s background is non-viable 1960s, a time of want to eat but nothing to eat and want to wear but nothing to wear.

Trapped as a married woman, she endured, but becoming an abusive mother to her son was unbearable. Her son's biological father also disliked her, something she could not tolerate!Now, she faces a major dilemma: should she keep the door shut and live her small life, or divorce and find a new love with her son? This is a question worth pondering!?【Definitely a pampering tale】ps: This story is fictional, with no historical inquiry, please do not delve deep. Any similarities are purely coincidental. Also, some data in the text are based on the personal understanding of the author, please tolerate any mistakes.

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.