Arpious of the Planes - Chapter 6 Savage Assassin

Two thousand years ago, the Emperor slayed a dragon in the wild, inaugurating the era of mankind.Since then, whenever malevolent dragons wreaked havoc, heroes have always emerged as destined, allowing time to flow across a long and peaceful human world.As the century turned, the sudden appearance of individuals with supernatural abilities triggered unprecedented disturbances. People constructed a sanctuary for these superhumans in the sky, on the back of a colossal dragon, called the Dome City.One spring day, Gongsun Ce, who had just started university six months ago, encountered a hunter who claimed to be a Wuchang master.“Hey, can you really do such a thing?!”“It's quite normal, because I am a superhuman.”—Thus, the love-comedy battle of supernatural abilities in a youthful campus begins!

Terrorized by the Seed Crystal Virus outbreak, the dimension where Stein was created had its civilization destroyed. Once a world developed with technology as its core, now it was just a wilderness with remnants of tech that’s inedible.

Unknown if it was a call of good or bad luck, Zhang Qin Feng was chosen as the one to bring life back to this lawless, desolated place.

What can he do?

How can it be done?

For what purposes?

Is it worth risking his life for?

There’s no one to answer Zhang Qin Feng, as he was the only one with such a privilege. But he knew... That everything came with a price.

“STEIN, Inventory!” Zhang Qin Feng grabbed the Phalanx X-02 that took four inventory spaces from his Dimensional Storage. Holding the pistol with both of his hands, he fired a shot accurately at one of the incoming zombie's head.

One day, a gallery appeared before my eyes.…And then I was able to see who wrote in the gallery.All the heroines are ‘virg*ns’.

I am Racist.…I mean, my name is Racis T.I was a stand-up comedian. The flop kind. The type who only got laughs when someone else was roasting him.One night, I was doing a gig at a shady, run-down bar—the kind where tattooed bikers drink motor oil for breakfast. I went in with my usual dark humor, but my jokes were getting the same reaction as my dating profile: complete silence.That didn’t sit right with my inner artist, who was already starving to death. So I did what any committed comedian would—I went darker.Turns out, one of my jokes (or all of them?) triggered a guy so hard that he pulled a trigger. Headshot. Instant death.But hey, look at this: A guy got triggered, so he pulled the trigger. That’s wordplay. But who cares? I’m dead anyway.All I wanted was a successful show, people laughing, and maybe a few girls swooning over my wit. I never cared about money. The millions I’d have made would have gone to charity—specifically, 0.001% of it. See? I’m generous like that.Anyway, death is death. My story should’ve ended there.But… if there is an afterlife, I had a simple wish: become a successful comedian, find a loving wife, and have just enough money to afford three meals a day… and maybe a humble little private yacht. Or a jet. But that’s it. Because, like I said, I don’t care about money.Unfortunately, wishes don’t work that way.Because, well—there was an afterlife.And it was absolutely not what I wished for.