Transmigrated as the Empress’s Male Consort? I’m Done Serving Her!

Transmigrated into a female-oriented novel as the unlucky commander of an army of four hundred thousand? From the start, the female inspector sent by the empress is already pointing at me and cursing me as a “lowly male slave”!

This history grad student sneers: Sorry, I’m not putting up with this crap from some female-oriented novel!

The female inspector humiliates me? I cut her down! The empress’s pretty boy tries to take my troops? I overthrow him! The southwestern barbarians kick up a fuss? My four hundred thousand elite soldiers flatten them! The empress’s sycophantic female officials block my way? I’ll use every scheme, fair or foul, and depose or kill them all. This is so satisfying!

The empress panics: “Enter the palace as my male favorite, and I’ll spare your life!”

I cut down her messenger. “You want me to be your male favorite? Ask my million-strong army if they agree!”

In the end, I storm the imperial palace, and the empress drops to her knees, weeping and begging: “I’ll abdicate for you! I’ll be your empress!”

I turn around and have her pretty boy made into a human swine, then toss him in front of her. “Empress? You think you’re worthy?”

So what if I transmigrated into a female-oriented novel? I’m taking the empress off her throne and becoming emperor myself!