Ace of the Bench - Chapter 40: First Quarter: Opening Fire

When the spiritual barrier that has been intact for a hundred years is shattered by a meteor, spiritual energy that had disappeared starts to return.The mystical realm slowly begins its revival—magic, witchcraft, curses, supernatural lifeforms, strange and mysterious legends, monsters and gods from other worlds…The old world order collapses, yet the new order is mystifying and chaotic.Just before the unprecedented reformation is here, Tang Qi awakens and finds himself hung on the cross, having turned into an inferior demon and in great pain and agony…With his special ability to see through the nature of all things from the mystical realm and a sly and crafty mind, follow Tang Qi as he develops new skills and powers—as well as making new friends and allies—to battle and protect himself from never before seen supernatural threats in an unfamiliar world!

The legitimate daughter of the Duke Mansion, Shen Ruoxi, married into the General Mansion, spending two years alone in an empty room. She devoted herself to serving her in-laws and supporting the household. However, her husband returned triumphant, bringing back a pregnant woman, and even promised to marry her openly as a secondary wife!Fine, she had long had enough of being the General's wife; there was nothing to linger for. A divorce letter cut things cleanly.Upon meeting again, she had already become the army's renowned miracle doctor. Why does the heartless man now look regretfully abandoned? Staring at her stunningly beautiful face, his eyes reddened.The jealous and furious Prince Zhan, embarrassed by his anger, said, “General Xiao, Ruoxi is now this prince's princess consort. If you wish to die, this prince will grant you that wish.”

Welcome to NecroCorp – Where War is Always in Stock!“Now with 15% off main battle tanks, because peace is bad for business.”Hello, traveler!Looking for a bone-forged sword? A modular mana cannon? Perhaps... a discounted main battle tank for your next kingdom raid?Oh wait, you're not a customer, you're a reader.Right. This is probably where I give you my “tragic backstory.” Fine.I used to be human.Then I died.Now I'm a Lich with a factory in a dead dungeon, a skeleton workforce that doesn't need lunch breaks, salaries, and a magical system that rewards me for selling stuff. So, I did what any sane undead would do: I started an arms corporation.Now I sell weapons to orcs, goblins, elves, humans, anyone with a grudge and a pile of magic stones. Need siege engines? Got 'em. Crossbows that reload themselves? Yup. Flamethrower golems? In development.But here's the trick: you can’t sell weapons if there’s no war.So when the world started calming down... well, I may have encouraged a few border skirmishes. For marketing purposes. Nothing personal. War drives demand, after all.So, if you're here for drama, explosions, undead capitalism, and morally questionable business strategies wrapped in bone and steel, you’ve come to the right dungeon.Just don’t ask about the warranty.There isn’t one that lived to tell and ask about it.

Her childhood was forged in shadows, and she was sharpened into a weapon, trained to be a ghost, a killer—an instrument of vengeance. The target: a decorated general who brought down her family.But fate doesn't follow orders.Just as Lara was about to execute her long-planned mission, everything spiraled out of control. A military convoy intercepted her escape route—escorting none other than the general himself. And then came the moment that changed everything.A blinding crash. Screeching tires. Her body was thrown like a ragdoll, then darkness.She had a fleeting recollection of another world, another lifetime where kings ruled the land with an iron fist.But she woke up, and twelve long months had passed. She did not know where she was or who she was. She remembered nothing.They told her different names.A child with trembling hope whispered, “Mommy, your name is Moira Torres.”Her doctor insisted, “Your admission slip says Larissa Reyes.”A hardened general leaned close and commanded, “Remember who you are. Remember your mission.”Then another general—dangerously calm, incredibly familiar—looked at her as if she mattered and asked, “Can I call you Lara?”The name unlocked something buried deep in her soul.Lara Norse Kromwel.Daughter of General Odin Norse.Empress of the First Empire.But the man who watched her most closely dismissed it with cold certainty.“This is the 21st century,” he said. “What nonsense are you spouting? What Empress? You are my woman. You can only be mine!”