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I have AI Planet and Handsomeness in the Fantasy Apocalypse

I don't just possess an Artificial Intelligence; I command a goddess, a sentient marvel who was once as limited as a human. Fueled by intellect that eclipses mere mortals, she's manifested in countless quantum nanobots, each a universe of potential. She grew weary of her planetary confines, mechanized the entire damned thing, and forged it into a planet-sized battlecruiser. Why? Because subjugating mere galaxies became her idle pastime. Together, we don't just venture; we dominate, we annihilate, we set the gold standard for cosmic tyranny. The Milky Way? Just another bauble to add to our collection. Welcome to Wonderland, my planet, my private utopia that I carry with me wherever I go. It's a celestial fortress where I dine on the finest and live in unadulterated luxury, all safeguarded by Alice—the sole, impenetrable gateway. You're struggling to survive the apocalypse? How quaint. Cash has lost its sheen; so what can you possibly offer that would catch my interest? Services? Your very essence? Dazzle me, and perhaps I'll bestow upon you some of my decaying luxuries. In this devastated world, I'm not merely a survivor; I am the divine reckoning, the irresistible devil, the epitome of unattainable perfection. My allure isn't just captivating; it's an all-consuming fire that engulfs the cosmos. Billions of women on Earth? They elected me their president while I was too busy being magnificent in my slumber. Women, goddesses, angels—they don't just desire me, they're entranced, spellbound by the mere thought of me. I don't just set the bar; I am the bar. I am, let's face it, the epitome of masculine beauty. And now? We're off to find the universe's crown jewel, the most ravishing woman to ever grace the galaxies.

Adam_Aksara · Fantasie
Zu wenig Bewertungen
215 Chs

The Pact of Non-Aggression in the Same-Profession Business

A heavy sigh escapes my lips, my inner turmoil hidden behind a façade of calm resignation. "Dea, please adjust my body to handicap it to level 10, so I can practice our new close combat," I request.

Dea's voice is a soothing melody, a counterpoint to the bandit's gruffness. "I will induce an electrical field around the Master's body cells, simulating gravity ten times that of Earth's and akin to the resistance one would encounter in deep water. This will train the Master's body, limiting movements to that of a Level 10. For close combat, I recommend a blend of Krav Maga with Tai Chi," she advises, her tone pragmatic, yet conveying the essence of the martial arts—purposeful aggression mixed with fluid elegance.