Ancient Fiend Dragon Emperor - Chapter 33 - : Purple Gold Dragon Skill

Join Victoria Ferrous, reincarnated girl on her adventure through the Pokemon World. Through important adventures such as, dealing with her teacher’s Tauros, and dealing with duty bound Growlithe in the morning that refuse to let her sleep in! Join her on her Pokemon Journey as her eyes are opened to how real this world is. A slice of life adventure in a Pokemon world. Anime based, but things aren’t quite the same. Not a dark fic, but an exploration into trying to make the world feel more real.

# pet beasts # impart cultivation

10 billion people in the world traveled through the apocalypse to survive, but the protagonist directly turned into a zombie after crossing…

And with the passage of time, the body is gradually decaying.

For zombies: Rotten clean = dead.

So, Jiang Si’s time is running out…

In order to survive, he opened the novice gift bag.

Got the trash skill: ?Xingchang?br>“?Xing Changhe? After eating alien creatures, you can get additional experience points. If the ingredients are fresh enough, there is a chance to get this biological skill.”

…

Um.

Really useless.

Alien creatures are full of poison, and the taste… is extremely unpalatable!

Eat alien creatures to gain skills?

That is courting death!

Such rubbish skills, after all…

Etc., etc? !

right? !

I’m a zombie. Since I can eat people, isn’t it the same to eat xenogeneic creatures? !

With a move in his heart, Jiang thought to a possibility.

Then, the journey to eat the world began:

“Ding, you ate the Poison Horned Rabbit and gained 400 experience points, and your skills are fast.”

“Ding, you ate the Lion of Ice and Fire, gained 5800 experience points, and the skill Flame Body.”

“Ding, you ate the Wetland Poison Dragon and gained 180,000 experience points and skill dragon scale skin.”

“Ding, you ate the true ancestor of vampires…”

- Description from novelbuddy

It was understood that this was a capitalist country, where the possession of the greatest amount of capital determined to whom the nation effectively belonged.The smile that had been resting on William Sheffield’s face was abruptly erased as his expression turned cold. In a tone laced with determination, it was demanded by him that the police be contacted immediately so that they could crush those who stood in their way. The reasoning behind his words seemed clear: if such actions had been taken before by someone like Rockefeller, then why should it not also be possible for Sheffield?A sense of irony hung in the air as the sentiment was expressed—this was America, where each day seemed to unfold as though it were part of an ongoing shootout, with battles fought not just with guns but with power, influence, and wealth.