A Sinner's Eden - Chapter 121 - EVO

Is Magic really just a wish machine? No! In a universe where Magic truly exists, the ultimate nature of Magic must be as simple and aesthetically pleasing as the laws of physics. This is the story of a mass-produced magical war tool who learned the ultimate nature of Magic. But what of it? Just as birds can fly without understanding aerodynamics, magicians can use Magic without grasping its ultimate nature. Learning the ultimate nature of Magic doesn’t mean the tool can instantly transform into a great magician. But yearning for knowledge is a human instinct, and curiosity is the primary driving force of human civilization. Even for Magic, which should seemingly defy explanation, humans hope to understand its inherent operational laws. The pursuit of Magic’s ultimate nature requires no reason! The story in this book takes place in an era where steel and gunpowder dance together. Here, firearms are on the rise; armor remains the main character; military theory is changing rapidly, with endless innovations in systems and techniques. And this world has something more than ours: Magic. The world is undergoing a profound transformation, and no one can remain detached from it...

I am a princess, moreover, I am a fool of a princess.

Born in the imperial palace, my appearance is as average as that of the white radish and cabbages in the fields. Throughout the four seasons of the year, my face is always displaying a dull expression, eyes forever shrouded in haze.

But in reality, I know of the secrets within this palace.

Including hers, his, and theirs.

Just leisurely living my days comfortably in the palace like this, I firmly believe I can continue to play dumb to the end.

Taking your hand, dragging you away. Not leaving you say? Very well, close the doors and release the hounds. (Expressionless face)

It was understood that this was a capitalist country, where the possession of the greatest amount of capital determined to whom the nation effectively belonged.The smile that had been resting on William Sheffield’s face was abruptly erased as his expression turned cold. In a tone laced with determination, it was demanded by him that the police be contacted immediately so that they could crush those who stood in their way. The reasoning behind his words seemed clear: if such actions had been taken before by someone like Rockefeller, then why should it not also be possible for Sheffield?A sense of irony hung in the air as the sentiment was expressed—this was America, where each day seemed to unfold as though it were part of an ongoing shootout, with battles fought not just with guns but with power, influence, and wealth.