Cherreads

Support? No, it's an all-round hexagon warrior!

林夕雾
Here's the English translation of the provided Chinese text: --- Many awakened Fate Soul Pathwalkers fought hard in the square. Some fought with high spirits, swords in hand; some wore heavy armor and bore shields to protect their teammates; some hunted stealthily with bows; some danced across the battlefield wearing azure top hats. Huh? Dancing? Everyone turned to look. What's going on? "Oh no! He's a Pathwalker of Elation!" "What!? That Elation Path whose skill library is full of useless skills, the one that's notorious for griefing teammates?" "No! Don't run away — I'm a gold medal support! I never throw!" The crowd scattered like birds and beasts. Lin Xiwu stood there, tears streaming down his face. The initial free crying skill activated on its own. Damn Elation Path! I want to clear my name! Then Lin Xiwu turned and charged forward, frantically switching between weapons in his hands — the swiftness of The Hunt, the heavy strikes of Destruction, the area attacks of Erudition, the buffs of Harmony. Skills from many Paths came readily to his fingertips. The square ran red with blood, reduced to a bloody mess. By the central fountain, a white piano was set up. "I told you — I'm a gold medal support. Since no one came, I had to do it myself." Lin Xiwu wiped his bloodstained hands and touched the keys. "May you find peace." His expression was serene. On the battlefield, a melodious melody rang out. --- Let me know if you'd like a more literal or culturally adapted version.
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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.
Aetherion_Vael · 2.2k Views