Ministry Of Ungentlemanly Warfare Book นิยาย & เรื่องราว

(Minister Mina) Of all people, no one expected Minister Mina to be the one that instantly exploded in anger. A person that were well known as the calmest person in Aeternum, now actually went mad with anger. Of all things, no one could have thought that there were people that Is actually objected the war, which supposedly to be supported by the entire nation. So naturally when everything had come to this point, the point where the war were already 1/3 won, suddenly there were people just don’t want to win it. “This is just outrageous!….Madam Vice President!….I proposed that we should investigate these…unruly people that dared to proposed this memorandum!….these people might be a spy!!…”.(Gov

I couldn't fault Theron for that, after all, I was doing the same thing. "I am glad you fought not only the threat but also for your dignity and you succeed in both." I murmured, my mind once again conjuring images of Theron on the battlefield, ripping the limbs from ghouls and sending them to their deaths as blood soaked through his uniform. The vision once again caused my heart to beat faster in excitement. Enough! I have to stop fanaticising about that! "I did what I had to do and I do not regret it." He continued, as though the incident was done and dusted in his mind. But those words sent a chill racing down my spine. Would he say the same thing once he had murdered me?

I was not in the mood to fight this dude, but I was not about to back down from anything. Cherry: He thinks you won’t fight him… He thought completely wrong… Me: We need to be cautious with this one, Cherry…. After all, there was a reason why he became the warden of the police department… Mr. Callighan was a very intelligent wolf. But, so was I. Looks like I was going to match his level. We prepared ourselves for one another, but it was a complete waste. I heard rustling behind me and my wolf felt at ease.

And something sharper—printer ink, fresh and smug, like someone had typed a fresh lie and left it cooling on the desk. The walls were lined with smart looking books Gianni definitely never read. Mostly war memoirs, the kind where men who never bled write about the ones who did. I trailed my fingers along the spines—three volumes on Napoleon, untouched. A fourth, thinner, tucked slightly out of order. I pulled it. Nothing. No secret passage, no trapdoor, just more arrogance in hardcover. The desk was military neat. The kind of neat that tells you someone cleaned up after bleeding out. A silver ashtray still wore the ghost of a fresh burn—long and tapered, Gianni’s custom cigars.

Aya Connor is the only mute Epsilon she-wolf of the Connor Moonfang Pack—fragile, voiceless, and treated as a disposable pawn by her own greedy family. When her father forces her to take her sister’s place in an unwanted mate bond with the terrifying Alpha Kyle Connor, Aya enters the deadly halls of the Rev-9 Crimson Dominion with one goal: keep her dying grandmother, Elder Serena, alive. Kyle Connor is a muscular, ruthless Alpha scarred by war and betrayal. Known for his cold restraint, he wears a pristine ceremonial neck-cloth—loosening the knot by exactly one inch only when his lethal wolf, raw lust, or dangerous possessiveness takes control. Believing Aya is a scheming spy sent to ste

Taking a sip of my whiskey, I felt the familiar burn as it slid down my throat, praying to whatever deity would listen that it'd numb the pounding headache beginning to overwhelm all my other senses. “Fuck me,” I mumbled under my breath as I opened the book titled, ‘History of the Great War.’ It was the usual stuff, talking about the first days of humans discovering the supernatural world was real, the attacks within our governments and armies, and the billions who had died. God, it had been a cluster fuck, a well-planned cluster fuck that none of us had seen coming. The war had been going on for a little over seventy years by the time I was born, just in time for me to participate in the la

I knocked aside their hands and bolted into Belgard. The first horror that greeted me was graffiti scrawled across the 10,000-dollar wine barrels: *Jacques Mightiest*. Every glass I had commissioned at great expense from master artisans bore a tacky tag that read, *Art, by Jacques.* The drawing room, once lined with refined paintings by masters spanning centuries, had been stripped. The canvases lay heaped in a corner as though set out for a yard sale. In their place, an ugly canvas reading "Jacques and the Jax-Minnies" hung at the center of the wall.

"Tell me everything. Every detail." "She entered the factory at approximately 23:47 hours. Massimo provided perimeter support but didn't enter the building. She went in alone, engaged the Wolf on the second floor." Marco's voice steadied as he moved into tactical reporting. "Combat lasted approximately twelve minutes. The Wolf attempted to use psychological warfare—told her about being hired, about someone wanting her alive, tried to plant seeds of doubt about Dante." "And?" "She shot him mid-sentence. Professional execution. Two to the chest, one to the head. Clean kill." Marco looked up from his tablet. "Sir, the Wolf said she didn't even flinch. No hesitation. No emotion. Just... eliminat