MTL - America’s Road To Wealth - v2 Chapter 452 Paradise for Plutocrats & Hell for Ordinary People

Avo was born to destroy New Vultun. In a twist of fate, he’ll become its only hope for salvation. The gods were the enemy. The slaver. The chains. With dreams of paradise, humanity slaughtered them and stole their powers, opening the path to become more – to ascend. Instead, they nearly destroyed the world. Vast hive cities serve as the final bastions against the crumbling of reality. New Vultun is the greatest of them all, and within its borders, ascenders wage war to determine the laws of existence itself. The world descends ever deeper into ruination. Avo was born a weapon, a slave to his instincts and his masters. He and his brothers were made to burn New Vultun to ashes. Everything changes when Avo gains immortality and becomes heir to an impossible legacy. He must ascend the megacity of New Vultun. He must challenge the very tyrants that usurped the gods. He must finally free the world from chains.

One day, when I came to my senses, I found myself reincarnated in another world.After enduring a rough life post-reincarnation, I thought I could finally settle down, quietly tending to a flower garden in the mountains……But something feels off.”

“I thought I was dead, but when I opened my eyes, I found myself reincarnated in an abandoned RPG game. I intended to gather the heroes I had trained to form a guild once again, but…“I thought I was dead, but when I opened my eyes, I found myself reincarnated in an abandoned RPG game. I intended to gather the heroes I had trained to form a guild once again, but…Hmm… it seems all the heroes have completely lost their minds.”

Jianghu was in turmoil, an era of great strife. The leader of Great Qin wielded the Mo Blade, leaving the world battered and bruised. The ageless figures of Jianghu crouched upon the mountains, and with a single turn, they cast the entire world below them. Strong men measured the earth with their feet, and heroes of Jianghu could cleave the heavens with one sword, yet in the blink of an eye, they were drunk in the embrace of beauties. The Taoist carried his sword, the Scholar drunk on wine. Wearing tattered clothes, a beggar grasped a rotten branch and dared to storm the ancestral hall of the Taoist Sect. On the willow-lined causeway, in the long pavilion, a man who had sat withered for thirty years turned and stepped out, holding a peach blossom, with a flick of his wrist, he shattered ten miles of red candles. The era of Great Qin was renamed the Great Yuan Era. The youth with the Wooden Sword left his mountain village behind.