MTL - Supreme Martial Dao - Chapter 41 Breakthrough

To correct the mistakes of his past, a young man is forced to narrow the space between science and witchcraft, as he ventures on a quest to save his world from complete destruction.

Miracles don’t come walking your way by themselves.

A scientific genius named Thomas Harrier was transmigrated to an imperial prince body after a car accident that took his life. He found out that he is in a world similar to our own with a timeline akin to early twentieth century. The body that he is occupying was the imperial prince of a failing empire who suddenly rose to power after a successful assassination attempt of his father. Unaware that the attack is just the beginning of what is to come. He faces many challenges throughout. Will Thomas Harrier be able to live his second life in peace while running an empire and getting it back to its former glory? Or will he succumb into a conspiracy lurking within the country's borders?

Expect some:

Cold war era techs.

Super battleship with advanced electronics, propulsion, and fire control systems?
Helicopters?
Missiles?
Modern medicines and equipment?
AC-130?
A nuke?
Challenger or Abrams or Leopard?
F-4 Phantom or MIG-21?
Colored TV's.

Everything!!!

PS. Cover not mine, I just found it on google.

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.”