Supreme Husband System! & Supreme Wife System! - Chapter 169: Middleman

What did you say?Your mobile phones have eight-core processors? 6G of RAM? 256G of storage? Full charge in an hour and a half?Is that supposed to be impressive?Our mobile phones have sixteen-core processors, 12G of RAM, 1T of storage, and can be fully charged in just ten minutes!What did you say?Your power banks have a capacity of 30,000mAh? They feature bi-directional fast charging?Sorry to break it to you, but our power banks have a 100,000mAh capacity. As for bi-directional fast charging technology... our phones with 10,000mAh large battery capacity can be fully charged in just ten minutes. You want to talk about bi-directional fast charging technology?If others have superior products... I'll provide them at a better price... If others provide a better price... I'll just produce an even better product...Superior electronics, superior cars, superior construction...Ever since Lin Yun acquired the Cosmic Trading System, every industry has started to face fierce disruption...Money is only a minor concern, the real power lies in force!Do you say that Lin Yun's aim is to conquer Earth?No! No! No! You're mistaken, his aim is the universe itself!

One day, Raizou ​​Takakura, an average salaryman, had a Heart Attack and his life ended that day.

But, he got a second life, in a different world.

Reincarnated with strong skills―― wasn’t what happened to him, instead, he was reincarnated as a foot soldier in a small country, Highserk Empire, which was surrounded by large countries.

With a new name, Walm, he was thrown into the frontline of war.

Covered in blood and the stench of death, along with his comrades, he was slipping through life-or-death situations.

An adventurer party with members that could use powerful magic, transferees with overwhelming power called the “heroes”.

In a deadly battle with them, Walm gradually developed his talent as a warrior which would’ve never awakened if he were to stay in times of peace.

While his eyes becoming dark and muddy over time――

Player: I’m a worker whose monthly salary doesn’t even hit $5,000. My monthly rental already takes up half of my salary, I don’t have a girlfriend and is reprimanded by my superior every day. However, I feel very happy because there has been a new virtual game recently. In the game, I have a powerful bloodline. Not only do I have my own fleet, I even have a powerful overlord that granted me a colonized planet. Although I know this is fake, but inside there, I found the meaning of my life!

Actually…the overlord who gave him the planet really wanted to tell him that this game wasn’t fake. (You really have your own fleet and colonized planet…) but the overlord knew that he couldn’t say this. Because, once he said it, these subjects who thought of themselves as ‘players’, would definitely not be as terrifyingly hardworking as now!!

It's simple. A vengeful wildfire of a woman. A tyrant who begs to be burned.When Aria crashes into Kael’s empire, hellbent on making him pay for taking her job away, she’s met not with defiance—but a dare. “You want revenge?” he taunts, voice dripping with dark invitation.“Then ruin me. Take your pound of flesh exactly where it hurts.” His proposition is a trap laced with sin: As expected he calls the shots in his bed, her contempt is his twisted aphrodisiac.“Hate me until your hands shake,” he growls. “But do it on top of me, where I can watch you savor every cut.”Their arrangement is a collision of dominance and delirium. Aria wields her fury like a blade, determined to break him. Kael? He thrives under her wrath, goading her darker, deeper, hungrier.But vengeance turns slippery when every command she hisses ignites his obedience, and every cold glare melts into bruising kisses. Soon, the bed becomes a battleground—her nails carving victory into his skin, his whispers a serpent’s promise: “Chain me with your rage, darling. I’ll still come back for more.”The rules are simple: No mercy. No surrender. But as their games spiral into something ravenous, who’s destroying whom? And when hatred burns this hot, what’s left when the ashes cool?