Apostle of the Gods - Chapter 128 - Post-Battle Processing

I became a heroine who dies during the protagonist’s awakening event.

The world froze.Literally froze. The chattering students, the falling cherry blossoms outside the window, even the dust motes in the air – all suspended in perfect stillness.“Oh wonderful hero,” a melodious voice echoed through the room. “Your world faces a terrible crisis, and you have been chosen to—”“No,” he said flatly.A pause. Then a shimmer of golden light coalesced into the form of a beautiful woman in flowing robes. She blinked at him. “I... what?”“I said no. I'm not interested in whatever quest or destiny you're selling. Pick someone else.”The goddess's perfect features creased in confusion. “But... but you've been chosen! The prophecy speaks of a warrior with a fierce spirit, one who—”“Lady, I don't care about your prophecy. I've got enough problems here without adding some fantasy world's issues to the mix. Now un-freeze time and leave me alone.”“You don't understand,” she pressed. “Our world is being ravaged by the Demon King's armies! Millions will die without—”

A mechanical engineer Poul Nielsen along with his best friend Jonathan Axelsen a civil engineer died after a truck crashed at the coffee shop where they were hanging out and got transmigrated in a late 19th-century parallel world, in the country of Avalonia. It was at the height of the second industrial revolution and to survive daily, they’ll have to work like others to earn pennies to get by the day. However, the two didn’t settle for less. They want to be the Edison, the Chrysler, the Rockefeller, the Carnegie, the Ford, and the Westinghouse of this new world.

This world doesn’t seem to have electricity? Then let’s start an electric power distribution company. Light is not enough, let’s build appliances and motors as well to make our business profitable.

This world doesn’t seem to have vehicles and ground transportation relies solely on horse-drawn carriages and trains. Let’s start an Automotive Manufacturing Company.

Huge infrastructure projects such as metro stations, skyscrapers, bridges, tunnels, and dams? Let’s start a Civil Engineering firm and build miracles in this world.

There is always money in guns, they say. Fine, let's invest in another venture, the arms manufacturing company.

And before we even know it, we will be the richest men in the world. However, the path won’t be easy as fierce competitions are up ahead. Robber barons who would do everything just to crush their competitors. Predator against predator, and government intervention.

Tang Qiu was a substitute bride–forced to take her half-sister’s place and marry the young master of the Jiang family, a deformed cripple with less than 6 months left to live.

“Who would have thought that even a sickly whelp like Jiang Shaocheng would find himself a bride?”

“I hear that he’s practically on his deathbed and he’s only marrying the Fengs’ daughter to improve his lifespan.”

Tang Qiu ignored the whispers around her and focused on her husband-to-be, who coughed violently in his wheelchair. At the altar, after they had said their vows, she lifted her veil and knelt in front of Jiang Shaocheng, pressing a hesitant kiss to his lips.

The marriage contract was signed. No matter his physical deformities, he was now her husband.

She wasn’t afraid of the scars that marked his face, nor was she repulsed by him being confined to a wheelchair. Every morning, she made him breakfast, attended to his needs, and thought of little else beyond her duties as a wife.

“Young Master Jiang is a cripple who can’t get it up,” her best friend argued. “When he dies, you’ll still be untouched. You should set your sights higher.”

“A sickly invalid like Jiang Shaocheng can’t give you happiness,” her ex-boyfriend insisted. “I’ll wait for you.”

But Young Master Jiang only scoffed. “I have plenty of time left to be with her.”

Later in their marriage, Jiang Shaocheng wanted to enjoy his little wife in all ways–the press of her lips against his, the brush of skin on skin; the way a husband and wife were supposed to. But Tang Qiu refused him, blushing. “No, we can’t. The doctor says you can’t exert yourself.”

Jiang Shaocheng’s desire was surging through him, a heat in his core that demanded to be satiated. He cursed, I should have gotten rid of that doctor and the wheelchair long ago.

But he yearned to make love to his little wife, and so he revealed his true identity. In the blink of an eye, the deformed cripple transformed into a powerful businessman–tall, dark, and handsome. He quieted Tang Qiu’s protests, his body positioned over hers, his arms caging her as she lay on the bed. His voice was low when he asked, “What about now?”