THE STRONGEST NEXULYTE - Chapter 111: Glen’s partial transformation

The rule had always been this way: the strong over the weak, the rich over the poor. Mark knew this, he'd even experienced it.After his boss fired him for discovering the affair with his girlfriend (who also worked at their small gaming company), Mark vowed never to be humiliated like that again. He wanted to rise above everyone, to become the world's top player, the one who made the rules and decided everyone's fate. But that was wishful thinking. He was just a heavyset, nerdy guy with some programming skills and a large appetite. What else did he have going for him?Hit hard by this reality, jobless and dumped, Mark withdrew into gaming, which also became his source of income. One day, after leaving a bad review for a game he played and streamed, he received a strange reply from the game's creator. Suddenly, Mark found himself transported to Aetherium, the world of that same game, as Magnus Lancaster, the young lord of a crumbling territory.Now, with this new beginning, he vowed never to be weak again, never to leave his fate in someone else's hands.

Lu Xiao had followed his master for eighteen years, excelling in both medicine and martial arts.After five years of military service, he returned to the city to search for his origins.Faced with flashes of knives and shadows of swords, he was decisive in killing, dominating everyone.When it came to the matters of the heart, he said, “Still… the Young Miss is the best.”

...[Inside an underground basement]“You are going to die for nothing, hahahaha,” the old man's voice thundered through the room, sending chills down my spine.Step.With a swift and ruthless motion, he lunged forward, his sword slicing through the air and slashing my throat, crimson droplets staining the darkness.“We'll see,” I whispered defiantly, my final words escaping as a mere breath against the impending darkness.Slowly, inexorably, my consciousness slipped away, and I descended into a deep, unfathomable slumber.“Huh!?” My eyes fluttered open, and I found myself seated in a bustling tavern, the air thick with laughter and the clinking of glasses.In front of me stood a captivating lady, her beauty juxtaposed with an angry furrow upon her brow, threatening to shatter the harmony of the jovial scene.“Don't follow me around!” Her words pierced the air like shards of ice, the intensity of her emotions palpable as she cast a resentful glare in my direction, before swiftly departing from the tavern....Am I trapped within the confines of a game? The fragments of my shattered common sense scattered before me, leaving me to question the very fabric of my reality.

Igor had asked him to die for the world. She would ask him to die for her. Problem was, he didn't really like dying, not for a second time, at least.