At first, not to mention when that disciple who had just entered the foundation building stage would arrive, just talking about the current Tang Xiaoyu, he really wanted to die.
[Damn it, who did I provoke? Not a single good thing happened, and every terrible thing befell me.]
[Is reality always like this, either making you turn bad or turn crazy?]
The more he thought about it, the angrier he felt, and the more he thought about it, the worse he felt. The aftereffects from the war and prison were gradually revealing themselves.
After figuring it out and seeing through everything, he stood up: “Damn it, what the hell is all this nonsense, I’m done playing.”
The old man turned his head and commanded in an unrejectable tone: “Sit down.”
Tang Xiaoyu completely ignored him and scolded: “You old fogey, you think that just because you're old I don't dare curse at you!”
“What are you worth, we were the ones fighting the war and dying. It has nothing to do with you at all.”
The old man coldly said: “What did you say?”
Tang Xiaoyu enunciated word for word: “I said, just looking at you cultivators makes me nauseous.”
Tang Xiaoyu suddenly roared: “Did I make myself clear enough, was I explicit enough?”
A pair of crimson eyes, full of anger, stared at the old man.
The people around frantically pulled on Tang Xiaoyu: “Little Tang, stop talking, you need to calm down.”
Tang Xiaoyu glared over, unrejectably stating: “Let me go, don't make me say it again.”
Seeing Tang Xiaoyu's crimson eyes, everyone released their hands.
The old man suddenly laughed: “Haha, very good, very good. I see you don't even know how the word death is written.”
Tang Xiaoyu walked right in front of him, looking straight at his eyes: “Is death that scary? Don't you know sometimes living is harder than dying?”
Saying that, he walked to the spiritual vessel’s side, glanced up at the stars in the night sky, and jumped off the vessel.
As the sound of impact on the ground rang out, the world became quiet.
The next morning at dawn, a shriveled old woman with a sinister complexion was looking for something. Behind her followed an exceptionally beautiful woman in looks and figure. The woman wore black clothes, with an emotionless face.
“Master, that person over there still has a breath left, I'll go relieve his suffering.”
Saying that, the woman drew out the longsword in her hand and walked toward the man.
The old woman took a look but did not plan on getting involved.
When the woman got to the man, she felt something very strange about him.
He clearly seemed dead, yet still clung to a breath. His face should have held looks of horror, pain, and indignance, but instead he had a smile.
“Master, this man is very different from others I’ve seen before. Do you know what’s going on?”
The old woman walked over and closely observed: “This man is interesting. If you want to know what’s so interesting, just ask him when he wakes up.”
“We still need to save him?”
“Up to you.”
Out of curiosity, the woman fed the man an elixir.
This man was none other than Tang Xiaoyu.
Perhaps all his previous luck had gone towards this. Just one breath had been left in him!
It wasn’t that he was an invincible protagonist, but rather that where he fell was opportune.
At a mountain peak, in a dense forest, the layers of fallen leaves had managed to preserve that one breath in him. It seemed he hadn’t exhaled his very last breath.
In the blink of an eye, three days passed. Tang Xiaoyu’s external injuries were free of worry, but his internal injuries still hadn’t completely recovered.
With lifeless eyes, he calmly gazed at the emotionless woman: “Why save me?”
“Because I have a question I want to ask you.”
“Ask.”
“Why did you have a smile on your face as you died?”
“Because of deliverance.”
“I see.”
Tang Xiaoyu got up: “I’m leaving now.”
“Where are you going?”
“Wherever I came from, back there.”
“That’s there.”
“Heaven or hell, but definitely not the mortal realm.”
“Why?”
Tang Xiaoyu glanced at the woman, desolately saying:
“I’ve been kind my whole life, never doing anything bad, yet the mortal realm's misery spared me nothing. The mortal realm is a nice place, but I won't be coming back next life.”
After saying that, he headed out the door without the slightest reluctance.
The woman watched his lonely, desolate, lonesome back, still following behind him.
“Must you die?”
“Then what’s the point of living?”
“Revenge, repaying kindness, fulfilling desires, those are all reasons to keep living.”
“I have no enemies, no kindness to repay, and no great desires.”
“Aren’t the people who forced you into this state your enemies?”
“It was this world that made me become like this.”
“Don’t you want to rule the world and change it?”
“When there is no hope, don't speak of dreams.”
The woman had never met someone like this before, unsure of what more to say.
So she started talking about her own past, how terribly miserable she was before, how hopeless she felt, and finally how her fighting spirit was reignited.
“Compared to me, what reason do you have to not keep living?”
The previously emotionless face of the woman showed agitation, indignance and many other expressions.
“No need to feed me motivational chicken soup, that’s what I always use to dupe others, because I never believed it myself.”
The woman wished she could pry open Tang Xiaoyu’s head to see what was inside. She directly bound him with a magic treasure and threw him onto the bed.
Stomping angrily, she walked toward where her master resided.
Seeing her disciple’s expression, the old woman even went out to check if the sun had risen from the west: “The sun hasn't risen from the west today! How come your frozen face is showing other expressions?”
The woman indignantly said: “Compared to him, I’m the picture of normalcy.”
The old woman was somewhat curious but didn’t plan on meddling in her disciple’s matters.
“You like challenges right? Then figure out a way to make him normal again.”
The woman was once more full of fighting spirit: “Nothing can defeat me.”
Watching her disciple’s departing back, an affectionate smile appeared on the old woman's face: “Your life shouldn’t just have hatred, it should also have smiles.”
The woman calmed herself before entering the room and releasing Tang Xiaoyu’s restraints.
“Let me introduce myself. I’m called Zhao Siqi. This place you’re at now is the Tianxuan Sect of the Eastern State’s northern region...”
Tang Xiaoyu interrupted: “Get to the point.”
Zhao Siqi dejectedly said: “This is the Yinming Sect, a third-rate sect. The sect...”
“Get to the point.”
The woman was so angry her chest heaved up and down. She yelled furiously: “What I’m saying is the point, it’s the point, got it?!”
Her voice spread through nearly half the Yinming Sect, scaring some disciples to nearly losing control of their magic.
“Who was that?”
“It sounded like Senior Sister Zhao?”
“That ice-faced one?!”
Tang Xiaoyu was unmoved as still water: “I only want to know your goal in telling me all this.”
pression Bureau] Transported to a fantasy world overrun by demons and monsters, Gu Qingfeng becomes a jailer in the Demon Suppression Prison of the Great Yan Dynasty's Demon Suppression Bureau. From this point on, bizarre cases frequently occur in the Demon Suppression Prison, once known as hell on earth and infamous for its gloomy, terrifying atmosphere! Why do the demons and monsters in the prison wail miserably every night? Why has the corpse demon, capable of transforming into various beauties, donned black stockings and switched careers to become a foot massage therapist? Why has the eye demon, expert in soul-snatching and illusions, turned into a VR headset? Why is the fox spirit performing otaku dances? Are all these occurrences a twisted expression of demonic nature, or a descent into moral depravity? After peeling away layer upon layer of mystery, all clues ultimately point to a jailer named Gu Qingfeng. Gu Qingfeng: "Hehehe... My dear demons and monsters, whose card shall we flip today?"
transmigrates into the world as the sect master of the Heavenly Yan Sect, which is on the verge of being wiped out. He binds a system that grants him cultivation power based on the number of disciples he has: for each disciple, he automatically gains a year's worth of cultivation every single day! Take one disciple: every day he gains 1 year of cultivation power. While others struggle through a year of bitter training, he gets the same just by sleeping through a single night. Take ten disciples: every day he gains 10 years of cultivation power. Foundation Establishment, Core Formation, Nascent Soul—he breezes through all bottlenecks without lifting a finger. Take one hundred disciples: every day he gains 100 years of cultivation power. Even a Soul Transformation Venerable before him can’t survive a single blow. Take ten thousand disciples: every day he gains 10,000 years of cultivation power! With a wave of his hand, he topples empires. With a single step, he crushes the sacred grounds of the universe. ... While others fight tooth and nail for secret techniques, Lin Yan casually hands out Nascent Soul-level cultivation manuals as beginner textbooks. While others strain to find talented recruits, Lin Yan opens his doors to anyone—so long as they’re human. In just three short years, the Heavenly Yan Sect went from a backwater sect made up of three crumbling huts to a sacred land that every cultivator under heaven would kill to enter. ... One day, otherworldly demon gods invade, with a million demon soldiers pressing down upon the realm. Lin Yan, yawning, rises from his lounge chair and glances at the system panel: [Current Disciples: 1.28 million] [Daily Cultivation Increase: 1.28 million years] He waves his hand casually, and the countless demon soldiers are reduced to ashes in an instant. “So noisy… interrupting my fishing.”
lities. One day, Qi Yuan was buying groceries when he unfortunately came face-to-face with a monster. Just when he thought he was going to die on the spot, he suddenly heard the monster's thoughts... "This aura, he's definitely not an ordinary master!" "So terrifying, so terrifying." "A fight with my back against the wall, I can't take it anymore." Qi Yuan: Ah, no one told me that my awakened ability isn't telepathy, but rather the stronger my enemies imagine me to be, the stronger I truly become. PS: Zhou Hai in the first chapter is not the protagonist.
] [Lone Wolf, No Male Gaze] [Protagonist is pursued early on; extreme protagonist-stans, stay away!] The "Carnival Paradise" descends and slowly devours the real world in the form of a game. By chance, Zhu Yan awakens the talent [Roleplay], becoming one of the first beta players. He thought he could develop safely, but after clearing the first instance, he is branded by humanity as the chief culprit behind the game's spread—a traitorous villain. A villain? Who would ever... become one! He'll be the villain! From then on, Zhu Yan is not only a player but also a lackey for the Carnival Paradise. Between the straight path and the crooked path, he chooses the con. With his left hand, he dons the villain's mantle, staging scenes within instances, infuriating players who decry him as a despicable traitor, all while the game happily promotes him. With his right hand, he joins the non-human organization "Fangcun Mountain," which opposes the Carnival Paradise, transforming into a mysterious player who slaughters game bosses, earning cheers of "Long live the expert!" from fellow players. Gradually, Zhu Yan rises to become an S-rank human player in Fangcun Mountain's archives, while also being the Carnival Paradise's certified top game Boss. But when the final war erupts and both major factions place their hopes in him— Players tag his various aliases: "Experts, this offensive depends on you." The Carnival Paradise's supreme Boss throws an arm around his neck: "Bro, you're the iron, I'm the steel; you can't let me down again!"
