BOUND TO THREE ALPHAS - Chapter 6: FIRST AID

David Drinkwater lived his entire career as football's biggest joke.Thirty seven years old, rejected by every major club, and called a “club whore” by fans across Europe, but at Wembley Stadium, in the rain, he finally proved them wrong.Championship playoff final between Millwall and Norwich, and in the 90th minute, he scored the winning goal, then he died.**[Ding. Ding.]****「Host found: David Drinkwater.」****「Synchronisation complete.」**He opens his eyes in an eighteen year old body.Demien Walter, a failed Fiorentina academy prospect and suicide attempt survivor with an overall rating of 48, no team, and no future, but David brought something impossible with him.**[Ding.]****「Ultimate Gacha System activated.」****「Mission: Rise from nothing. Become the greatest footballer in history.」**Training earns points while matches earn rewards, and achievements unlock legendary packs.Every pack opening could change everything, whether through common stat boosts, rare techniques, or epic abilities, yet there's always the ultimate prize.**[Ding.]****「Diamond Pack opened.」****「Congratulations. Andrea Pirlo — Regista Vision obtained. Passing +15. Vision +10. Legendary Trait unlocked: Deep-Lying Playmaker.」**From trialist to conquering the football world, every pack, every point, and every impossible moment building toward football immortality.They called him a failure once, and they called him wasted potential, but now, with forty years of wisdom in an eighteen year old body and a system that rewards every drop of sweat with power, David will rewrite football history.One pack at a time.**Some dreams get a second chance, and some legends get a second life, so this is his.**

The Zhekova family's young master approached Cindy Clarke with an old phone and said, “You dropped this five years ago, and I picked it up. Do you still deny it?”

Five years ago, she was set up and got pregnant.

Cindy Clarke never imagined that the father of her son would turn out to be the Prince Charming that the entire nation loved.

She had a weak father, a scheming mother, and a sister plotting to harm her?

None of that mattered!

Adrian Zhekova said, “Whatever they want, I'll give it all to you. Let them be jealous.”

If her opponents slandered Cindy Clarke?

Adrian Zhekova said, “I'll shut down their account.”

Don't like it? Endure it!

Morgan Clarke said, “Sob, sob... Arthur Woods says I'm an illegitimate child without a dad.”

After the Woods family went bankrupt, Adrian Zhekova turned to Cindy Clarke and asked, “When are you going to make us official?”

Cindy Clarke replied, “Since I met you, it's been like having a cheat code. Everything goes my way.”

Adrian Zhekova replied, “That's right, I'm that cheat code.”

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Her childhood was forged in shadows, and she was sharpened into a weapon, trained to be a ghost, a killer—an instrument of vengeance. The target: a decorated general who brought down her family.But fate doesn't follow orders.Just as Lara was about to execute her long-planned mission, everything spiraled out of control. A military convoy intercepted her escape route—escorting none other than the general himself. And then came the moment that changed everything.A blinding crash. Screeching tires. Her body was thrown like a ragdoll, then darkness.She had a fleeting recollection of another world, another lifetime where kings ruled the land with an iron fist.But she woke up, and twelve long months had passed. She did not know where she was or who she was. She remembered nothing.They told her different names.A child with trembling hope whispered, “Mommy, your name is Moira Torres.”Her doctor insisted, “Your admission slip says Larissa Reyes.”A hardened general leaned close and commanded, “Remember who you are. Remember your mission.”Then another general—dangerously calm, incredibly familiar—looked at her as if she mattered and asked, “Can I call you Lara?”The name unlocked something buried deep in her soul.Lara Norse Kromwel.Daughter of General Odin Norse.Empress of the First Empire.But the man who watched her most closely dismissed it with cold certainty.“This is the 21st century,” he said. “What nonsense are you spouting? What Empress? You are my woman. You can only be mine!”

Welcome to NecroCorp – Where War is Always in Stock!“Now with 15% off main battle tanks, because peace is bad for business.”Hello, traveler!Looking for a bone-forged sword? A modular mana cannon? Perhaps... a discounted main battle tank for your next kingdom raid?Oh wait, you're not a customer, you're a reader.Right. This is probably where I give you my “tragic backstory.” Fine.I used to be human.Then I died.Now I'm a Lich with a factory in a dead dungeon, a skeleton workforce that doesn't need lunch breaks, salaries, and a magical system that rewards me for selling stuff. So, I did what any sane undead would do: I started an arms corporation.Now I sell weapons to orcs, goblins, elves, humans, anyone with a grudge and a pile of magic stones. Need siege engines? Got 'em. Crossbows that reload themselves? Yup. Flamethrower golems? In development.But here's the trick: you can’t sell weapons if there’s no war.So when the world started calming down... well, I may have encouraged a few border skirmishes. For marketing purposes. Nothing personal. War drives demand, after all.So, if you're here for drama, explosions, undead capitalism, and morally questionable business strategies wrapped in bone and steel, you’ve come to the right dungeon.Just don’t ask about the warranty.There isn’t one that lived to tell and ask about it.