A Soldier's Life - Chapter 142

I am Ye Qing. Lucky I found a [Monster Factory] application.

This bunch of super strong monsters are individually comparable to over 100 human beings, and they bring all kinds of skills!

Efficiency? With the skill processing speed +300, you still want to compete?

Precision? *cough, cough* Bring me that legendary dial caliper, let’s show them what absolute precision really mean.

Ye Qing: When, us, men want to be successful, we pull out our wallets.

Monsters: Don’t play those malice games with us. The creation of ultimate machinery is our love and life. These impenetrable bodies are our tools of the trade.

A 20 meter tall, overly buffed, savage looking monsters hold on to a ultimate cutting machine and yelled at the sky: “I am not targeting anyone specifically! Rather I am telling you all that, everything, in front of me and my tools are, nothing, but TRASH!”

- Description from Novelupdates

Betrayed by the kingdom he bled for. Executed by the brother he once protected. Daemon died a war hero—branded a monster.But death isn’t the end. Not for him.Reborn on the day of his cursed birth, under the same blood-drenched eclipse, Daemon remembers everything: the lies, the poison, the crown soaked in his mother’s blood. This time, he won’t beg. He won’t protect.He’ll burn the empire from the inside out.His twin brother Gabriel—the golden child, the “righteous” king—stole everything. So Daemon will take it all back, piece by piece.The nobles who cheered at his execution? Dead.The soldiers who held him down? Ash.The kingdom that worshipped a fraud? Buried under screams.This isn’t about justice. This is about revenge, and Daemon’s not stopping until his brother’s skin hangs from the palace gates.The empire made a monster.Now it gets to meet him.

From a stumbling lion cub to a majestic lion king, he imagines that his life as a lion would peak and end with him owning a vast territory, dominating the grasslands, terrifying all his enemies while having many wives and concubines.

Until he became the lowest-ranked master, his lonely and luckless life never changed.

Suddenly one day, a descendant injected him with a nanomachine, and the machine started ‘speaking’ to him.

“What? What are you talking about?”

This was beyond the boy’s knowledge, he turned pale.

The Nanomachine linked to his cerebrum realized the User was not understanding a single word it said.

“Who are you, and why are you doing this to me?”

“Nano Mashin?”

The boy’s face hardened.

Mashin was the deity the Mashin Religion worshipped, along with the Sacred Fire.

The religions’ Master communicated with Mashin.

“Um, are you really Mashin?”

The boy knelt down and asked with a trembling voice. At this, the Nanomachine attached to his cerebrum realized it had been misunderstood.