A Black Market LitRPG - Chapter 177: Funeral

He called me his ruin. Then he made me one.Alpha Shiloh's rejection wasn’t just a scar—it was a betrayal. He left me shattered. Broken. And I had to rebuild myself in silence.I almost forgot the way his touch once burned like salvation.Now he’s back.Not to beg forgiveness. To bargain. A deadly mission, he says. He promises freedom.But then presence ignites my wolf into a frenzy. She thrashes, desperate to claim him again. But I remember the coldness in his eyes when he exiled me. The way the pack turned their backs as I crawled into the wilderness, half-dead and wholly broken. Hate simmers hotter than desire.Yet here I am, bargaining with the devil who shattered me. Every moment we share is a lie. He doesn’t know about the shadows I’ve fed, the truth I’ve buried.Or the child.One whisper of its existence, and the pack will paint the forest with my blood.But the closer we get to completing his mission, the harder it is to hide… from him, or from the part of me that still craves him.Freedom has a price.So does vengeance.And I’m not sure which will destroy me first.

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.

Lin Chen transmigrates to the Dragon Ball world and unexpectedly awakens the Strongest selection system.“Defeat Frieza and prevent the destruction of Planet Vegeta. Reward: Legendary Saiyan bloodline.”“Choice 2: Defeat Supreme Kai. Reward: Supreme Kai’s powers..……

“They Call Guys Like Me a Simp.”(Meanwhile, I’m out here living what their favorite MC only dreams about.)You ever notice how stories glorify the ones who feel nothing?The MC who never laughs.Never feels.Who plays women like chess pieces and calls it intelligence.He manipulates a girl? “He’s strategic.”He never opens up? “He’s mysterious.”He never flinches, never laughs, never lives —And you call that strength?Funny.Because to me?That’s just a prison in disguise.You see an “alpha.”I see a boy too scared to feel anything real.While they spend ten chapters monologuing about logic and sacrifice,I’m already making the Saintess scream,drenched in sin,halo cracked,legs trembling from truths her prayers never taught her.And I didn’t get there with cold eyes or control.I got there with laughter and chill. With warmth. With a grin and a hand on her thigh.I didn’t need to dominate her mind —I freed her heart.But that scares people, doesn’t it?Because readers trust the ones who suffer.Who stay quiet.Who kill without blinking and love without showing it.But me?I flirt.I laugh.I take hits and smile back, bloody and defiant, as if too weak to get angry.I don’t need to pretend emotions are weakness.I weaponize mine.Pleasure. Connection. Laughter.That’s my arsenal.And while your favorite MC is still calculating his next five moves,Trying to outwit death and romance like both are math problems,I’m already balls deep in the jade fairy — her sacred yin furnace clenching like it’s worshipping my shaft, her Dao Echo shattered into breathless moans, and her so-called cultivation path leaking down her thighs while she begs me to break her meridians again.You call that luck?Nah.That’s mastery of the three worlds.Because in a world that respects coldness,I came in hot.Where others manipulate, I connect.Where they posture, I play.Where they sacrifice, I seduce.So go ahead.Call me a simp.But while your genius MC is busy monologuing about destiny,I’m the one making goddesses question theirs —with a smirk, a touch, and no regrets.I’m not the hero.Not the villain.I’m just a simp… the kind who leaves your cold, emotionless MC’s woman dripping, ruined, and too stretched to go back to him.