Real Empress from a Noble Family - Chapter 451 - When It Was Through, It Was Through (2)

On the day of her escape from prison, she had died unexpectedly and was reborn into the body of Madam Huo.
He was the heir to the number one financial magnate. She had charged out of nowhere and from then on, the obedient and weak Madam Huo had started to awaken. She had been trampled under her feet.
Huo Shao had expressed that since she had already been conquered, wouldn’t it be too unfair for her if she did not give her body to him?
The muzzle of the gun was aimed at her head, “I only lost my wife and did not divorce. Choose between loving me or dying for love. ”
Gu Ruochu,”…”
Do I still have a choice?

- Description from webnovel

A Consort seeks prosperity.A Shepherd cloaked in yellow wages war.A Prosthesis-wielder cries out for retribution.Shadows tremble in the depths, encompassed worlds obscuring the many dangerous secrets of history. Might they be unraveled, all ways of life would be threatened. But to climb higher requires risks, to seek the light requires a Gambit of Lifetimes.Only when one determines themselves capable of risking it all, can all prosper.

Strength.... That's all that matters in the end.

After being abandoned by his own family, and shunned for having no mana in a world dominated by magic, ex-prince Arvell Relas Vispia was forced to live on the streets with whatever meagre money he had left.

However, fate had something else in store for Arvell.

After meeting the spirit inhabiting his amulet, Arvell gets reborn as a Nephilim.

A being that has the powers of a god.

Time, Space, Life, Death.

All submitted to the authority of a Nephilim.

Betrayed by those he once called family, Arvell swore to get revenge.

Revenge on all those that mocked him and shunned him as a 'failure.'

Revenge on those who betrayed him without a second thought.

This is a tale of how a young prince shunned by the world as a 'failure' rises and ascends to the pinnacle of strength.

I am Racist.…I mean, my name is Racis T.I was a stand-up comedian. The flop kind. The type who only got laughs when someone else was roasting him.One night, I was doing a gig at a shady, run-down bar—the kind where tattooed bikers drink motor oil for breakfast. I went in with my usual dark humor, but my jokes were getting the same reaction as my dating profile: complete silence.That didn’t sit right with my inner artist, who was already starving to death. So I did what any committed comedian would—I went darker.Turns out, one of my jokes (or all of them?) triggered a guy so hard that he pulled a trigger. Headshot. Instant death.But hey, look at this: A guy got triggered, so he pulled the trigger. That’s wordplay. But who cares? I’m dead anyway.All I wanted was a successful show, people laughing, and maybe a few girls swooning over my wit. I never cared about money. The millions I’d have made would have gone to charity—specifically, 0.001% of it. See? I’m generous like that.Anyway, death is death. My story should’ve ended there.But… if there is an afterlife, I had a simple wish: become a successful comedian, find a loving wife, and have just enough money to afford three meals a day… and maybe a humble little private yacht. Or a jet. But that’s it. Because, like I said, I don’t care about money.Unfortunately, wishes don’t work that way.Because, well—there was an afterlife.And it was absolutely not what I wished for.