Humanity's Greatest Mecha Warrior System - 43 Chapter 43

You’d think seeing the future would give me a head start on surviving the apocalypse. I had it all planned—until everything I knew shattered when my husband sacrificed himself to save me and our son. Now it’s just me, my three-year-old son Leo, and my cursed gift of foresight that only seems to kick in when it’s nearly too late.I’m doing my best to keep us safe, to find food, to make some kind of plan—“Mommy?”I glance down, trying to ignore the tug on my pant leg as I focus on our supplies. “Not now, Leo. Mommy’s thinking.”“Mommy!”I sigh and finally look down. My three-year-old is standing there, clutching… I blink. “Leo, where did you get a knife?”He shrugs, grinning like it’s the most natural thing in the world.My heart stutters. “No, really. Where did you find that?”I try not to laugh. I mean, he’s three. Maybe he just—found it somewhere? But the next day, it’s a water bottle. Then, a tiny flashlight, somehow with batteries still inside.I don’t even know what else; he’s pulling things out one by one with the pleased grin of a kid who’s just figured out his favorite game.Well, we may just survive this mess after all.Now, if only the universe could have spared me from him. I don’t even know his name, but I know his type: tall, broad, and annoyingly handsome, with an air of calm control that’s out of place in this chaos. Ex-military, if I had to guess, with a voice that’s just as infuriating as his smirk. The man has a habit of showing up at the worst—or best—possible times, with a gun at the ready and secrets buried as deep as those bright green eyes.I mean, he’s probably useful, but I’m trying to keep my eyes on the prize here: survival.For Leo and me.Because, foresight or no foresight, nothing is guaranteed in this new world—except the fact that people like him are trouble.

Qin Lin was playing a nostalgic game called “Ranches Story” when he was electrocuted. He suddenly discovered that he had the ability to enter into the game. He could even bring a watermelon he had planted in the game back to reality.

At first, his plan was to sell watermelon for 2 yuan a catty. In that case, he could earn 20,000 yuan by planting 10,000 catties worth of watermelon in the game every day and selling them in reality.

Later on, he discovered that by leveling up his ranch, he could obtain high quality crops that surpassed that of the real world. If he reared livestock, they were of far higher quality than that of reality. After he built factories, he obtained various recipes that far surpassed that of the real world. Everything changed after that.

Orin Stonewood rises from a prestigious smithing family in the Astral Kingdom. Wealth, recognition, excellence, and charisma - he had it all. But life from twenty-five ended on such terms for him. He falls victim to a dark ritual. The fate after this mystery was to rise and fall in every life he reincarnates in. The ninth reincarnation made him Zmey Ashbane. Into a world of terrifying, exciting tales. It seemed as if every encounter in this world wanted to tie him down for some reason. But he knew his goal. To break free from the ritual and rise as a master of fate, not its pawn.(Update rate: 28 new chapters a week)(The book has a slow progression. If, after reading up to chapter 100, nothing in this story interests you, that means it isn’t for you.)Due to the progression, I will lock the novel at chapter 60.

I found myself in a parallel universe, awakening as a male priest. Everything seemed perfect; after all, as a healer, specializing in aiding women should pose no issue, right? However, I couldn’t help but wonder about some peculiar spells in my repertoire.

Firstly, what in the world is the “Instantaneous Outbreak of Acute Gastroenteritis” spell? And don’t even get me started on the “Osteoporosis” spell. What purpose could these serve in my healing endeavors? The confusion only deepened with spells like “Blood Burn,” “Gradual Freeze,” and “Mental Chaos.” Can I still peacefully focus on healing women with such ominous abilities?

Comparing my spells to those of other professions, I couldn’t help but notice the stark contrast. Mages wield “Doomstorm” and “Ice Age,” swordsmen boast “Sword Rain: Homecoming” and “Wind-Cutter Slash,” while archers showcase “Arrow Rain: Shooting Stars” and “Storm Arrow.” Yet, my ultimate spells are disturbingly named “Cancer Cell Proliferation,” “T-Virus Infection,” and “Rabies Outbreak.”

In the midst of it all, a certain character, some crying girl, laments, “Noooo, I just took a bath, who would have thought that I would become infected!”

Meanwhile, a villain chillingly asks, “Do any of you know what it feels like to burst apart while spouting blood? No! You don’t know!”

Even a boss character confesses, “Dear family, who can understand? I just took a nap, and when I woke up, I suddenly found that I have no kidneys!”