I Play the Horror World as a Simulation Game - Chapter 115: Second floor massacre, woman in red dress!

Hao Ren (literally means “good man”), as his Chinese name suggested, is a good man, and his ideal was to live a restful, comfortable life as a landlord. At least that was his plan before a couple of abnormal creatures rented his house.

I became a professor in a game by accident. To make matters worse, I even messed up the difficulty settings. Now, I’m stuck playing on Hell Mode. A world on the brink of war with the Demon King. An Assassin Department where mu*der is legal… as long as you aren’t caught. I thought I’d have to claw my way through just to survive in this wretched place, and that was the case at first. But nowadays… “No matter how hard I try, I can’t be like you, Professor… How do you do it?” “Please… become our god.” “What do you know? What is it you know? Why do you make me want to live…?” One by one, everyone at the academy began to obsess over me.

Mutations occurred around the whole world and soon, a demonic apocalypse befell.

In order to defend against demonic beings, humans swiftly entered a globalized digital age. Everyone would be able to choose between a fighting or a supporting job through awakening once they reached the age of 18. These people would get stronger by slaying demonic beings.

Lu Yan had awakened to the weakest job, a Necromancer. However, he had also received a Job Supporting System and was able to reawaken into a hidden job, Lord of the Death.

“Necromancers are so weak that they die in one hit!”

“Man, that dude’s luck is just the worst. He did get a fighting job, but it’s the weakest. What can he do? Summon a few skeletons?”

“Also, aren’t there only like a handful of Necromancers out there? There aren’t a lot of experience or resources for them to inherit. Their future seems bleak.”

“Forget Necromancers! I got the Holy Knight job! Your all-around king is here!”

Not long after that, Lu Yan appeared in a full set of Death Nether Armor while wielding the Death Soul Scythe and leading a 100 thousand-strong death army. With a single swing of his scythe, he split the mythical rank demonic beast in half.

“Necromancers are weak? What does that have to do with me, the Lord of the Death?”

As the future High-Ranking among Elven, I was meant to be dignified and holy—but my friends never gave me the chance. One is a human prodigy turned “cripple” after an accident, determined to prove everyone wrong. Another is the Demon King, whose idea of preparing for war involves turning his entire race into farmers. As I watch my friends stir chaos in their own ways, I can’t help but wonder—how did I end up in the middle of all this?