Dungeon King: A Lady Knight Offered by My Goblins - Chapter 8 - Mutant Seed

When Li Yu woke up, he found that he had traveled to the game world of “Avenue Eternal”.

At this time, there is still half a year before the player arrives.

The evil demon catastrophe has not yet begun, and the forbidden areas of death such as the rotten swamp, the golden desert, the ghost country of the Yinshan Mountains, and the boundless monster sea are still silent. The whole world is calm.

Li Yu took advantage of his foresight and took advantage of the opportunity to develop wretchedly.

After the game is launched, along the Qingshui River, players often see a senior NPC with a glittering ID fishing.

Whenever the players approached excitedly to chat to see if they could apprentice or trigger tasks—

“What? You want to worship me as your teacher?”

Li Yu shook his head: “Excuse me, your qualifications are too poor. But Pindao once lost a Chilong jade pendant in the zombie cave. If you find this thing, I can teach you a spell.”

“Do you want to learn alchemy?” Li Yu smiled slightly: “There is a group of evil cultivators in the Wugui Cave of Qilao Mountain, as long as you can eliminate the evil for the people, and bring their magical instrument Xinjin and copper bottle to me, How about Pindao passing on your alchemy skills?”

“You want to worship Zixia Sect?”

“Do you want to learn alchemy?”

“It’s all right.”

Li Yu said meaningfully:

“But you have to understand one truth, there is no free lunch in this world!”

…

It was not until hundreds of years later that many top figures fell and disappeared, and the players also changed one after another, but Li Yu was still active in the world of dry ground, and he was even about to rise through calamity.

Many players have to sigh: This NPC is too strong!

- Description from novelbuddy

I am Racist.…I mean, my name is Racis T.I was a stand-up comedian. The flop kind. The type who only got laughs when someone else was roasting him.One night, I was doing a gig at a shady, run-down bar—the kind where tattooed bikers drink motor oil for breakfast. I went in with my usual dark humor, but my jokes were getting the same reaction as my dating profile: complete silence.That didn’t sit right with my inner artist, who was already starving to death. So I did what any committed comedian would—I went darker.Turns out, one of my jokes (or all of them?) triggered a guy so hard that he pulled a trigger. Headshot. Instant death.But hey, look at this: A guy got triggered, so he pulled the trigger. That’s wordplay. But who cares? I’m dead anyway.All I wanted was a successful show, people laughing, and maybe a few girls swooning over my wit. I never cared about money. The millions I’d have made would have gone to charity—specifically, 0.001% of it. See? I’m generous like that.Anyway, death is death. My story should’ve ended there.But… if there is an afterlife, I had a simple wish: become a successful comedian, find a loving wife, and have just enough money to afford three meals a day… and maybe a humble little private yacht. Or a jet. But that’s it. Because, like I said, I don’t care about money.Unfortunately, wishes don’t work that way.Because, well—there was an afterlife.And it was absolutely not what I wished for.

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