MTL - That Person In That River and Lake - Chapter 2 conspiracy to seize power

Standing last among those sailors, Byron was shoved roughly onto that narrow gangplank by the pirates.Just a short distance beneath his feet churned blood-steeped waves and dozens of gaping mouths filled with sharp teeth!“Thud.”He could only watch helplessly as the sharks opened their mouths, stirring up turbulent currents in the ocean as they bit viciously towards him!However, the [Sailing Logbook] formed before his eyes and wrote furiously on its own:“The ancient blood of the Bayfolk within you begins to boil.Spiritual sublimation commences!”

Cale Virel was just a normal office worker.He was bored and tired of his life, waiting for it to end.And then—Bam!One night, two robbers targeted him!And instead of surrendering, he fought back!Though, in the middle of doing so—PHUCK!He got stabbed and died...He didn't regret it though.After all, he's not really afraid of death anymore.And so...He rested in peace..........Or so he thought!Cale Virel—“Huh? What the fuck?”He woke up as a young slave named Kaiser in a different world!And given another life he didn't ask for again—“Fuck this shit!”Cale, or should I say—Kaiser—“Ugh, whatever.”Decided to live it... By just doing whatever he feels like until he dies.

The boundless universe is full of many wonders.

I, Chen Ping, only have one sword!

I can move mountains, overturn the seas upside down, suppress demons, slap the face of gods, pluck the stars, break rivers, destroy cities, and… open the heavenly abode!

***

The Midland world was full of wonders.

In the center of the world, there was a scholar who had once used a sword to slash out a waterfall of the Milky Way. This was the person he was the most proud of.

At the edge of East Sea’s cliffs, there was a nameless Daoist who was unwilling to ascend to the peak of a mountain. He only wished for a cool breeze to brush against his face.

In the Western Pure Land, there was an old monk who liked to treat people to chicken soup and tell stories.

In the southern border of the Wilderness, there was a blind painter who controlled golden-armored puppets that were as tall as mountains to move the hundred thousand mountains, creating an embroidered picture.

A impoverished youth who grew up in the north. One day, he saw tens of thousands of Sword Kinesis Immortals above him, like a swarm of locusts crossing the border.

He wanted to see for himself the scholar that the storyteller had mentioned, the surging tides of the East Sea, the vast swamps of sand in the west, and the majestic mountains of the Southern Wasteland.

Thus, one day, the youth picked up the wooden sword and began to descend south.

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