Transmigrating to the Great Ming as an Arms Dealer

Li Mingyuan felt as though he had just dreamed a very, very long dream, one so bizarre and fragmented that it made no sense at all.

In the dream, he seemed to be inside an immense, endlessly spinning cosmic vortex. Countless fragments of scenes swept past him like stardust caught in the shock wave of a supernova, carrying scents both familiar and strange. He saw the Nasdaq’s huge billboard in New York’s Times Square flashing a rising stock chart for his company; he saw the busiest intersection in Tokyo’s Shibuya, where fashionably dressed men and women surged like a tide in a postmodern haze; he saw himself driving a heavily modified Ford Raptor across the vast African savanna, chasing the blood-red sunset alongside a herd of galloping wildebeest; he also saw himself at a private shooting range in Las Vegas, his beloved HK416 assault rifle spitting fire as hot shell casings traced crisp, musical arcs through the air. All of it was familiar: the prosperity, clamor, and passion of the twenty-first century.