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Sweet and Blessed: Five Husbands Kiss Her Waist

Dark Plum Watermelon
Lu Xia, who possesses the healing power of a Spiritual Spring, transmigrates to an interstellar Beastman era where females are superior and males are inferior. As soon as she arrives, she gains five husbands, watching them kneel before her! * Male Beastmen with a low gene fusion degree are considered defective products; they are unable to transform into their beast form, have lost their fertility, and are the lowest existence in the Empire. Everyone sees them as trash; only Lu Xia treats them as equals. Later, Lu Xia's bracelet terminal changed color, and the first female in the entire Empire to successfully conceive naturally emerged. Lu Xia gave birth to the child of a male Beastman who was considered defective, and it was a super-perfect Beastman cub with a 100% gene fusion degree! The entire nation was in an uproar! * However, what was even more shocking was that Graces, who had become a Colonel in the First Military District despite being defective, underwent a perfect evolution. A majestic black dragon prostrated itself at Lu Xia's feet, offering his precious loyalty: "I swear to protect the best Lady Lu Xia to the death!" The white lion Cecil, a royal who was disregarded for being defective, devoutly kissed the back of Lu Xia's hand: "I will forever adore Lady Lu Xia!" The holy son of the fallen Feather Clan, mocked by the world for his defective body, Smelian stood steadfastly behind Lu Xia: "I swear to be Lady Lu Xia's firm support!" Felosen of the Demon Clan, seen as the embodiment of both evil and greed. The Vampire Simon, who lives in dark corners and can only lead a life in the shadows: "My doctrine will forever be guided by Lady Lu Xia!"
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I Leash Emperors: The Dead Shout. I Smile

The dead scream for justice. They have been screaming for centuries. In my office on the 88th floor, the sound is indistinguishable from the hum of the paper shredder. I have twelve of history's most dangerous minds in my vault—Caesar, Cleopatra, Napoleon, Wu Zetian, and eight others whose names are synonymous with the word empire. I stripped them of their crowns and their divinity and left them with the only two things that survive death intact: greed, and memory. Then I put them to work. The boardroom is their new battlefield. Stocks are their arrows. Hostile takeovers are their sieges. The First Emperor runs my supply chains with the same draconian efficiency that built the Great Wall. The Queen of the Nile runs my PR division and calls it beneath her. Caesar rewrites the legal architecture of an entire financial district before breakfast and considers it a light morning. The rules are simple. The Emperor with the highest ROI earns twenty-four hours of full sensory restoration—taste, warmth, the burn of real alcohol, everything the synthetic body cannot feel. The Emperor at the bottom earns something else: a Hell Start. Reincarnation as a beggar, a eunuch, a sacrificial lamb in the next cycle. They know this. It keeps them focused. Every full moon, the tavern opens. The millions they killed in their lifetimes gather as my Jury—compressed into a medium that runs on pure hatred, sustained by a spite so concentrated it has proven, against all known physics, to be a measurable energy source. They vote. They decide which of their tormentors leads the next charge, and which of the most venomous among them earns a temporary body to return to the waking world. Wu Zetian shed her imperial robes to kneel at my feet and beg for a private review of her HR directorship. Arsinoe—murdered by her own sister two thousand years ago—spent six weeks haunting Cleopatra's servers and built a perfect weapon before she ever asked me for the body to deliver it. Cleopatra herself believes her beauty is a currency I will eventually accept. She has not yet understood that in this building, the only currency is performance. I do not need loyalty. I need sharp blades. I do not trade in mercy. I trade in ROI. They believe this is my game. They do not ask why I need to win it. Rules? I am the rule. Harem? The highest-tier spoils of a game they don't know the stakes of. Every arc is a different world. Every world is a wound that needs closing. The Emperors do not know this. They never do. Perhaps the last thing standing between their world and oblivion is a man who stopped caring about it long ago. Let the dead shout. I smile. I have to. Tags: #InfiniteFlow #DarkFantasy #HighStakesPolitics #DivineAutocracy #GrimDark #RuthlessMC #HistoricalFigures #DarkHarem Content Advisory: Heavy power dynamics, sensory manipulation, historical figures in morally compromised positions. MC is an unapologetic autocrat. No redemption arcs.
Aetherion_Vael · 2.2k Views