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... , “I’ve never relied on anyone else to get to where I am now. I’ve gotten to where I am by myself.”

Qu Rou sneered and was about to retort when Mo Rao spoke again. “However, I think you might not be the case.”

Qu Rou was speechless, and an awkward look flashed across her eyes.

“Mo Rao, what do you mean?” Unwilling to show weakness in front of Mo Rao, she deliberately puffed out her chest and straightened her back.

“What do I mean?” Mo Rao asked. “I think you know ...

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WARN:

SLIGHT ROMANCE!! NO HAREM!! FAMILY GENRE!!

Filled with political intrigue, warfare, adventure, friendship, and betrayal.

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Synopsis:

I transmigrated into a novel that I read years ago as the second Prince of the Chrono Empire and was fated to be killed by my half-brother, the First Prince at the age of 12.

So, What's my role in this novel?

Am I the villain?

Am I an insignificant extra?

Am I the protagonist? Nah, definitely not.

But, why bother?

Following the novel's plot isn't my style and I won't let it dictates my life.

Regardless of my role, I am the main character of my own life.

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“I don’t care about how people in this world live, whether they have enough to eat, whether they can wear warm clothes, whether they have dreams and hope. I don’t care about their likes and dislikes.”

“It’s just that if you want to go to the sky, you need a complete advanced industrial system, a set of related research institutes, the most advanced materials science laboratory, and a big government that can coordinate all departments. It needs countless people who don’t have to worry about food and clothing. Dedicating wealth for this requires millions of high-level intellectuals to contribute their minds, and tens of thousands of different supporting manufacturers supply the best parts.”

“In short, it takes a world of abundance, and a great civilization to accomplish it.”

— Ian

A world reborn from its ashes.

An era that is coming to an end.

A group of prisoners fighting for power and power in the land.

A young man staring at the sky.

Prisoners peered out of the window of fate, mostly gazing at the dirt.

Only one is looking up at the stars.

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Welcome Zhang Yu to the art life section of Yangtai. I am the host army!
     The literary world calls your work the peak of God.
     The comic world calls your work insurmountable.
     The music industry calls your work the limit of art.
     The film industry calls your work a box office myth.
     Of course, these are not what I want to ask.
     I want to ask…
     What is it for the sports world?

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