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Pokemon: Unshackled Legends

Truthfully
In his past life, he was a lone-wolf survivalist. In his spare time, he was a fan of the gritty web novel Chronicles of Freedom. Now, he is Zeth, a child transmigrated into the brutal recruitment trials of Team Rocket. Zeth knows the rules. He knows the "Cain" method. He has the same analytical System recording every biological quirk and aptitude of the monsters around him. But as he stands on the shore of a lethal island—divided by scorching deserts and a high-level volcanic zone—he realizes something terrifying: This is not the book he read. New regions, undiscovered gates to dangerous dimensions, and historical figures like a young Cynthia and Steven Stone populate this world. The "meta-knowledge" that was supposed to be his greatest weapon is now an unreliable map leading him into death traps. With a green-potential Houndour as his only ally and a one-month deadline to survive the trial, Zeth must use his survivalist instincts and his secret System to "unshackled" his Pokémon's limits. In Team Rocket, you are either the predator or the fodder. Zeth has no intention of dying twice. ----------------------------------- My second book!!! as said before this is very heavily inspired by the fanfic "Pokemon: Chronicles Of Freedom" which is my favorite Pokemon book by far and that inspired me to create my own with certain same principles... And NOOOO this ain't a blatant copy as you will see later on as I added so much newer stuff. There's possibly no romance, but if I had to choose one down the line it would of course either be Cynthia or Diantha.. But that's pretty much it. author out! happy reading....
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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.
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