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The Professor Who Should Have Been the Final Boss

Chau_Tinh_Thien
For three years, Eternal Mecha Online had an impossible limit. 99% World Completion. Every hidden boss was defeated. Every secret uncovered. Every mystery solved. Yet no player had ever reached 100%. Until Lam Huy Trường did. The moment the progress bar finally reached completion, a strange message appeared on his screen— A single question. If you could become a villain in the game… who would you choose? Half as a joke, he chose the most infamous figure in the entire lore. The Mad Professor. The genius responsible for humanity’s greatest technological breakthroughs. The man whose inventions created legendary mechs… and countless disasters. The villain destined to die at the hands of his own experiments. Then the screen went white. When Lam Huy Trường opened his eyes again, the war had already begun. Monsters the size of skyscrapers roamed the world. Humanity survived only inside fortified cities protected by crude early-generation mechs. And he had awakened— inside the body of the man history feared most. Armed with modern scientific knowledge and memories of the game's future timeline, the professor realizes one terrifying truth: Humanity was never supposed to win. But this time, the so-called villain intends to rewrite the rules of war. Because if the world is doomed anyway— then he will become the engineer of humanity’s evolution. Even if history must call him a monster.
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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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