Fortunate to Have You This Lifetime - Chapter 1679: I Have a Little Goldfish 45

Tristan never thought his life would lead where he would be signing all his freedom away, makeup masking his true identity, and walking toward a bond he never agreed to. All to protect his family and survive a world that thought little of him.Alpha King Mitch is powerful, feared, and completely uninterested in love. For him, this is just another duty—an arranged union meant to quiet the pack elders. But when their eyes meet, something shifts. Tristan feels it, even if he’s terrified of what it might mean.Tangled in secrets and bound by a lie, Tristan must navigate a fragile dance between duty and desire… all while hiding the one truth that could destroy everything.

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!”