MTL - Heroes of Silver Moon - Chapter 398 : powerless

Countless planets, endless cultivation.

The struggle for the Dao has persisted for thousands of years.

Miao Xiaojing, a junior disciple of the Evolutionary Immortality Sect, suffered the destruction of his sect, and was thrown into the vast river of fate.

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(Immortal Cultivation+Meeting a Perfect Match+Shura Field+Invincible Flow+Upgrade Flow+Playing the Pig and Eating the Tiger)—What is cultivation? When I think back to the past, cultivation was, as a baby, kicking my legs over and over again—kicking on the bed, kicking on the ground, kicking every single day. Cultivation was, as I grew older, swinging my sword again and again—slashing here, cutting there. Cultivation became, as I matured, the repeated harmony of yin and yang—busy tonight, and busy again tomorrow night. … My name is Xu Ming. I have never cared about the stipends given to me by those sect masters, noble ladies, or princesses.I said to her, “Can you give me a room closer to yours? I need to report my work to you at any moment.” Even if I accomplish nothing every day, I just want to watch how she cultivates. I…

Vincent van Gogh, the painter who refused to be an accessory Of power and painted with his soul at the tip of a brush, was not understood by anyone and had to die like a madman, and he woke up in 21st century Korea.

Like a wheat field melted with gold, like a sunflower that swallowed the sun, a dazzling painter once again takes the brush.

I, an ordinary high school student, Kimizuka Kimihiko, who easily gets involved in things, was appointed to take care of mysterious attache cases by mysterious men in black suits. After meeting a beautiful angel-like detective girl, named Siesta in a hijacked plane, I became her assistant.

And from there–

[You deal with the beehive, and I’ll restrain the enemy.] [Don’t make plans that make me the victim.]

We had those kinds of foolish conversations, all while being completely broke every day and fought against . Even when there were hurricanes, the weather-beaten duo sleep past it. Sometimes when we saved money at a casino, we would jump around on the beds at a resort hotel, only to be broke again the next day. We would walk through deserts, traverse through jungles, conquer mountains, cross oceans– The great detective and her assistant would go through these dazzling adventures–

Until she died.

And this story starts from 1 year after that incident.

I’m the only one who’s left, but I carry on her remained wishes.

This story is far from over..