MTL - My Iron Suit - Chapter 46 Get the formula

The summer I was 17. A painting I created was sold. For 1.4 billion won.

Warning: ~SOUR RAW LEMONS~Make no mistake, MC is a villain through and through.Story is not sacrificed for eye squinting lemons, cheek slapping lemons are not sacrificed for story.Detailed smut scenes, but I warn in advance, hold on to your pillows and be near a convenient location, only the strong can maintain calm.Your PP will definitely grow if you read this book!-----------------------------------------It begins with a rough start, but stay with me, it only gets better!!...Also, its not all about the lemons here, the story is just as important if not more. The lemons are an aspect of the story, not the other way round.Join my discord server:- https://discord.com/invite/Rjfy3RkgwtYou will find character illustrations there and get future updates.-SYNOPSIS-Following countless reincarnations, Aldritch had lived countless lives without any recollection of the one before. He was initially chosen by a god for a specific purpose, and for whatever reason, the god stuck with him, trying time and again to reincarnate him into a particular world, but each time, he enters a different world and loses the memories of before getting there.Just when the god was going to give up and finally search for someone else, Aldritch's reincarnation works... half works, since he still got reincarnated into the wrong world, but at least this time, it was one with a connection to the intended destination.Aldritch initially didn't wish to bother himself about this warworld, as he wanted to live a fun life, doing everything he couldn't in his previous life now that he has and can get anything he wanted, good looks, wealth, fame, and most importantly, beautiful women to carry out and fulfil all his desires and fantasies!!But then, realizing the truth about warworld might just change his mind... And what a weird start? he is starting out in the chamber of the goblin queen?

The protracted ’witch hunting’ had faded into silence with the end of the Seven Years’ War, and the mysteries of the East Coast had begun to conceal themselves, yet gunpowder was on a rapid rise. Mo Qishang, who should have been utterly confounded, stood at the crossroads of destiny in the name of Arthur. He stared in astonishment at the charging knights, the wizards atop the high towers, and the bizarre wilderness. He felt the sharpness of the longsword and the recoil of the firearm, both clear and unfamiliar. At last, he excitedly shook his robe and, with a smile on his face, said— “Do not believe what I say, for to believe is to exist!”