My Crown Prince Consort Is a Firecracker! - Chapter 2902: I Won’t Let Go

When Su Jiu dies on her eighteenth birthday, she transmigrates into a novel about painful love and becomes an adorable four-year-old child.

‘I’m sure I was……dead.’

Annette Bavaria, a woman from the most prestigious noble family in the Deltium kingdom , returned back to the day of her wedding.

The groom’s face was fierce as they entered the hall for the ceremony. He clutched her arm tightly because he hated Annette terribly.

Now they were going to have a hellish marriage again, hurting each other.

***

“Don’t do this, Rafael.”

“Shh, Annette. If you really want me to stop, please don’t open your dirty mouth. I’m going crazy right now because I want to squeeze it right in.”

She looked at her husband tearing her clothes with tearful eyes.

He was still horribly mean, arrogant, and a beast who only coveted her body.

If she didn’t want to die again, she had to tame this wicked beast somehow.

There was no other option.

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.

grains of sand slipping through my fingers.All I had left was my name: Clark.Enjoy reading it!