A Mistaken Marriage Match: Record of Washed Grievances - Chapter 90

With divine medical skills in his left hand and supreme martial arts in his right, carrying a century of memories, he was reborn and returned to the city. This life, he vowed to dominate everything, take control of all, and ascend to the zenith of the heavens!

Apocalypse befell, and roommates performed a skyward ritual.As the fog descended, the Book of Blood Spirit appeared in the hands of all survivors, and only those with a Contract monster could survive.Su Han directed his gaze to the neighbor who had already mutated and twisted, silently pulling out a gleaming fruit knife...Grotesque meat corpses, giant spiders with gaping mouths, eyeballs enveloping the city, one-eyed sharp-toothed hand monsters...Civilization fell, cities shattered, and all humans became meat for the monsters. There was only one way to survive:Use monsters to fight monsters.

In times of war…What is a Battle Mecha engineer expected to do? Are they expected to do research and realize their imagination?How about a Battle Mecha pilot? Are they expected to enter battle with their mechas as they display their exquisite control through bizarre and bewildering techniques?What about a member of the special scouts? Are they expected to infiltrate deep into the enemy lines as they use stellar unarmed fighting skills to suppress the enemy with a single move? Or are they expected to make use of disguises and stealth techniques to take out the enemy?And what about a military officer? Are they expected to analyze the outcome of a battle? Or are they expected to create brilliant strategies to triumph over the enemy through a miraculous move?For someone who excels in human psychology, deceit, assassination, and disguise, what happens when that person is merged with all those professions?This is the story of a cowardly, wretched, and despicable fatty.

Arriving in a new world where the steam industry was booming, he inherited a three-story apartment on the capital’s royal square, took in someone else’s cat, and listened to the whispers at his ear, ready to witness this mysterious and bizarre era. The epic of the Sixth Era was about to commence, and behind the curtain, The Chosen One was destined to step into legend. Old Gods, Relics, steam, witches, detectives, ancient secrets, the Era’s brilliance... “Would you like to play a round of Roder Cards?” Time engraved the hours, as Silvermoon illuminated the shadows. I compose your legend, you whisper your verses to me.