MTL - Instructing the Archaeological Team, Was Actually Regarded As a Tomb Robber - Chapter 982 Candle Dragon Territory

“Here's what happened. I was in a desperate situation when I accidentally encountered a dragon. It told me I was a martial arts prodigy and said it would teach me the Dao of Immortality…” “This excuse for skipping class and cultivating in secret… is that seriously the reason?” “I don’t care whether it’s human or not, what matters is that the dragon said: ‘If you want to become strong, kneel and call me Master.’”

A scientific genius named Thomas Harrier was transmigrated to an imperial prince body after a car accident that took his life. He found out that he is in a world similar to our own with a timeline akin to early twentieth century. The body that he is occupying was the imperial prince of a failing empire who suddenly rose to power after a successful assassination attempt of his father. Unaware that the attack is just the beginning of what is to come. He faces many challenges throughout. Will Thomas Harrier be able to live his second life in peace while running an empire and getting it back to its former glory? Or will he succumb into a conspiracy lurking within the country's borders?

Expect some:

Cold war era techs.

Super battleship with advanced electronics, propulsion, and fire control systems?
Helicopters?
Missiles?
Modern medicines and equipment?
AC-130?
A nuke?
Challenger or Abrams or Leopard?
F-4 Phantom or MIG-21?
Colored TV's.

Everything!!!

PS. Cover not mine, I just found it on google.

“Villains aren’t born, they’re made...blah...blah...”Cute quote. Stick it on your Tumblr header next to your anime pfp.You boys love your villain stories, don’t you?You want carnage. Chaos. Control. You want a dark throne, a cold smirk, and a woman kneeling at your feet begging for mercy.But you?You don’t want to lift a damn finger.You’ll cheer for the villain as he kills a god, but cry when he gets betrayed.You call it “plot armor” when the hero survives—but call it “art” when the villain does the impossible.You’re not fans of villains.You’re fetishists.You want the violence, but not the silence after it.You want domination, but not the burden of being hated.You want power, but only if the story forgives you for it.You don’t read these stories to understand evil.You read them because you think you're too good to win the normal way.“Villains don’t play fair.”Exactly. That’s why you love them.Because you wouldn’t last a day in a world where strength mattered and excuses didn’t.You don’t want a villain’s life.You want his results.You want to watch him burn the world for a woman.But you’d cry if a girl left you on read.So tell me—What exactly are you rooting for?At least unlike you, I support heroes—the ones with boobs.You know the type.Tits squeezed into latex, thighs tight in spandex, preaching virtue with cum-drunk eyes the moment they fall into my arms but always end up screaming my name instead.She flies above cities, saving lives like it’s her job.But at night? She crashes into my arms, trembling, moaning, clawing at my back like I’m the only real thing she’s ever touched.Her cape drops before her guard does.But I don't need to tear it off.She hands it over herself—bit by bit, kiss by kiss, lie by beautiful lie.You ever felt a heroine's breath hitch in your ear as she begs you to stop pretending you're the bad guy?Ever watched the symbol of hope ride you like you're the last man left after the world ended?That's not conquest.That’s devotion, baby.Unfiltered. Undeniable.And the irony?They fall the hardest.Because no villain ever tried to understand them. No hero ever dared to see past the shine and into the ache beneath.But I do.I whisper into the cracks of their perfection.I plant kisses where they hide their pain.I fuck them where they forget to wear their strength.And when they break—when their moans turn to prayers, when their strength melts into submission—That’s when I rise.I’m not just some brooding misfit out for revenge, or a misunderstood loner sitting around hoping for a shot at redemption.I’m not a villain.I’m the SUPERVILLAIN—the kind your heroines moan for when the cameras are off and the capes are crumpled on my floor.