MTL - They are Chasing Me! - Chapter 120 homicide florist 17

Li Muyang had transmigrated, and the good news was that he had a system. The bad news was that this system could only be used to play games. Oh well, if it’s playing games, then so be it. It’s better than having nothing. In the game, he was powerful and mysterious, causing the extraordinary fairies to be shaken to their core. Since it’s just a game, there’s no problem in aiming for the full compendium route, right? It wasn’t until one day that the fairies from the game showed up at his door that Li Muyang was truly startled. What was supposed to be just a game, how did it become real? “So... listen to my excuse!” I was really just playing a game!!

Earth has undergone an odd change. Expanding by millions of times its original size, its population was suddenly split into two halves.

On one side, there was a group of technologically advanced humans. But, on the other, a world of cultivation had grown and pospered.

The secrets that led to this change have been hidden in the darkness for too long... Until there came a day where a boy born on the Mortal side of the world was found to have the talent to enter the Martial side. Having lost both of his parents to a hidden tide, he chose to leave all that he had known behind and enter this land of danger.

What truths would he unveil? What would he learn about what separated the Mortals from the Cultivators? What hidden evils wanted to ensure that his people never rose up and gained power? And how would those evils... deal with him?

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This list of things I hate is quite long.

The first is that I hate to be tested the most.

The second is that I hate to be tested the most.

The third also happens to be that I hate to be tested the most.

The ocean's depths are too shallow, the sun's light too dim, the ground too mundane and the skies too small. For those born of this colorless world to deem themselves worthy of casting judgement on me... I can only say that it's laughable.

I am the Nameless Immortal God because even the Heavens themselves are unworthy to name me. Even while I am unaware of my own identity, I will dry the oceans until cracked land is all that is left, I will cast the sun into endless darkness, I will shatter the ground with my feet and sunder the skies with my blade.

Am I too arrogant? What right do you have to think that?

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Vincent van Gogh, the painter who refused to be an accessory Of power and painted with his soul at the tip of a brush, was not understood by anyone and had to die like a madman, and he woke up in 21st century Korea.

Like a wheat field melted with gold, like a sunflower that swallowed the sun, a dazzling painter once again takes the brush.