I Don't Want To Be An Ojakgyo - Chapter 65

Mythical Abode Mountain, Cloud’s End Cliff, the most dangerous of Azure Cloud Continent’s four deadly areas. Cloud’s End Cliff’s base is known as the Grim Reaper’s Cemetery.

Twelve years ago, an old beggar found an abandoned baby and took him as his own son, naming him Xu Han. But when his foster father dies, Xu Han finds himself in a training camp with dozens of other kids, though what they’re training for remains a mystery. It’s here that he meets his best friend, Liu Sheng, and life is good for a while — regular hot meals and a safe place to stay. But kids keep being taken and not coming back, and eventually, Xu Han and Liu Sheng find themselves left in the woods at night, where they discover what’s happened to the kids who disappeared before them — they’ve been turned into zombies! Can the pair destroy the zombies and survive the night, or will they be the newest victims of this twisted conspiracy?

On the dawn of a fresh New Year, an ominous figure emerged, shrouded in a guise of an angel but harboring the malevolence of a devil. With a chilling voice, it proclaimed, [Every month, you humans will be thrust into a perilous quest. Your survival hinges on overcoming 20 grueling rounds.]Suddenly, I found myself ensnared in this dangerous survival game, a grotesque merry-go-round where every turn carried the stench of death. Yet, I was not without any defenses. I possessed an unusual power: the power to regress 100 times, a chance to rewrite my fate.I stand on the precipice of my final regression, and I swear, ‘This time, I will conquer it. I will emerge victorious.’I’m no longer the insignificant shuttle that I once was. Today, I shed my former self, the one who had reached the pinnacle of power. Today, I am reborn for the last time as Black Scythe, a rookie player, a novice that once again will be become the Grim Reaper!

The protracted ’witch hunting’ had faded into silence with the end of the Seven Years’ War, and the mysteries of the East Coast had begun to conceal themselves, yet gunpowder was on a rapid rise. Mo Qishang, who should have been utterly confounded, stood at the crossroads of destiny in the name of Arthur. He stared in astonishment at the charging knights, the wizards atop the high towers, and the bizarre wilderness. He felt the sharpness of the longsword and the recoil of the firearm, both clear and unfamiliar. At last, he excitedly shook his robe and, with a smile on his face, said— “Do not believe what I say, for to believe is to exist!”