Martial God Gamer - 32 Chapter 32

Meng Yu’s Golden Finger was called “Corruption Strengthens Tenfold, Becoming a Demon Strengthens Hundredfold,”both extremely fierce and convenient to use. “Those who consume Qi are divine and long-lived, constructing the foundation of ten-thousand generations, and on the day they achieve immortality (’Dan’), they break the self of yesteryears (’Infant’), transforming into heaven and earth, thus becoming immortals.” This is the eternally correct tale of the Qi Refinement Practitioner Meng Yu’s grand cultivation adventure.

Riz is a fresh graduate who has been job hunting for a year. In terms of talent, he has no talent. Always a mediocre type of person. The only good point he has is that he is a hardworking person. After so many failed interviews, he starts to get dispirited. However, as he does not so easily give in to that feeling, he resolves to try his luck in the last interview he has.

Indeed, it is his last interview. An accident occurs on his way there.

When he opens his eyes, he is in the middle of the forest, tattered clothes with blood on it.

“Th-this...”, Riz was shocked as he found his body smaller than it should be.

It didn't take him too much time to understand everything that happened. He becomes the youngest son of a count.

Finding himself in the backward world, he who has no ambition previously is in a dilemma. At first, he just wants to live quietly and enjoy the richness and privilege as a noble. But then circumstances push him in a different direction.

One event led to another, now he finds himself at the top of power.

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The head of the London Association of Mages, the most powerful Saint Archmage in the world, Audrey Davis, accidentally transmigrated to another world due to a magic accident. She was an 18-year-old human girl.

[Longevity + Discipleship + No Female Lead + Lighthearted Humor with No Tragic Moments]When his master picks food, he spins the table there;When his master chants spells, he chats without a care;When his master takes rest, he sings a lively song;When his master lies late, he bangs the pot along;His master lives on long, but his life is rather short;His master lays him down on the hillside, as a sort;His master lifts a cup, but he won’t take a drink;His master shares a tale, but he won’t stop to think;His master holds a feast, but he leaves the table wide;His master calls his soul, but he’s nowhere to abide.Spring returns to the hills, with blooms so bright and fair,Yet master and disciple are parted, one in heaven, one elsewhere.