Cultivation! My Augmented Statuses Have Unlimited Duration - Chapter 89 - Anti-Demon Golden Skin

It’s the beginning of the Apocalypse, and zombies are running rampant over the Earth.

Hamel, a warrior who traveled with his colleagues to exterminate the devil. Yet, he died just before the battle with the devil started.

“Yes.”

What the hell?

He was reborn as the descendant of his fellow warrior, Vermouth.

The descendant from the bloodline of the great Vermouth, Hamel. No, he was now Eugene Lionhart.

“It was already enough me having the delusion that I was a genius in my past life. But… this… It’s… It’s incomparable.’

From a dying body to a new body, he has the achievement that he did not have in his previous life.

And, a reincarnation of an unknown origin, the reality of living together with the demons.

Facing a new world where everything is questionable.

The journey of the unfinished previous life begins with Eugene’s body.

What is it like to be a prison guard in another world? Thieves, pirates, assassins, con artists, terrorists… Werewolves, vampires, witches, necromancers, succubi…This is the Iron Rose Prison, where the most dangerous witches in the world are gathered.“I will make this the best model prison in the world!”said a prison guard who had been transported to another world.“Warden, someone has escaped again!”“Bring them back and put them in solitary confinement.”Today, is also a peaceful day on the Rose Prison.Warden: “I’m just trying to run my prison properly, how did I become a big shot in this world?”

Let someone else go to war, you, lucky Austria, go get married! What the god of war can give you, the god of love can also give you.

The smoke of the Napoleonic Wars has dissipated, and the Vienna system that once brought peace to Europe is riddled with holes. Beneath the seemingly peaceful appearance, there is a vortex of the times with undercurrents, the tranquility before the storm.

The air is filled with the steaming mist of sweat, and the choking black smoke makes it hard to breathe. On the elegant dining table, a group of soldiers and fat men in suits are pushing each other, feasting on the feast called the world, hanging on the wall Van Gogh’s self-portrait with waltz in his ears.

Suddenly the music turned into a march, and the picture also turned to the battlefield. Soldiers marched in a neat line, walking towards the machine gun barbed wire.

A shell fell on the ground, and after the smoke passed, countless cavalry rushed to the artillery position.

Accompanied by a loud noise, a wooden plane flew close to the ground, then pulled up rapidly, broke through the clouds, and shone brightly.

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