Little Tyrant Doesn’t Want to Meet with a Bad End - Chapter 626.1: The Third Choice (1)

I used a cheat to devise a character in a game. Upon regaining consciousness after pressing the play button, I discovered myself embodying the character I had crafted, the ‘Priest of Corruption.’ This character was intentionally created with unfavourable statistics and is widely detested! The sole item in my inventory was the withered hand of a woman, yet could it possibly be the hand of a goddess?

“Welcome to the Cosmos of Madness!”

Said a man with long red hair and piercing golden eyes as he descended from the stars.

“You have been chosen for a great purpose! Task! Mission! Destiny!”

He shouted dramatically as countless worlds heard his every word, from the lowest peasants to the mighty entities in the lofty palaces in the Higher Dimension.

“All of you accept your destiny as a sacrifice to Daemon Sultan, Blind Idiot God, Primordial Demiurge, Azathoth!”

And then Apocalypse descended.

***

Follow the journey of self-named Samiel Zentaur, a half-mad worshipper of the Outer Gods, on the Path of Transcendence and in his path to find himself.

After reviving unexpectedly, the concubine’s daughter was no longer a coward like before, but a hard nut.

Flamed her up and bullied her?

Come on!

She came from the 21st century! How could she willingly embrace such destiny?

“Since you ask for it, see how I will torture you!”

She punished the scums and struggled against bad minions!

See how the concubine’s daughter Dong Ling would stand up and master her own fate!

- Description from Novelupdates

The hearse with the weird odor slowed to a stop before the entrance. The sound of pebbles could be heard bouncing on the ceiling. There were footsteps coming from the corridor, and there seemed to be someone sawing next door. The door knob to the room rattled slightly, and the faucet in the bathroom kept dripping even though it had been screwed shut. There was a rubber ball that rolled on its own underneath the bed. Wet footsteps started to surface one after another on the floor. At 3 am, Chen Ge held a cleaver in his hand as he hid beside the room heater. The call he was trying to make was finally answered. “Landlord, is this what you meant by ‘the house can be a little crowded at night’!?”