Primordial World: Big shots are all my friends - Chapter 242 - 216, The Source of the Flood

In a land where no magic is present. A land where the strong make the rules and the weak have to obey. A land filled with alluring treasures and beauty, yet also filled with unforeseen danger. Three years ago, Xiao Yan, who had shown talents none had seen in decades, suddenly lost everything. His powers, his reputation, and his promise to his mother. What sorcery has caused him to lose all of his powers? And why has his fiancee suddenly shown up?

By the time I realized it, I had reincarnated into another world.

I kept sleeping, and at some point I became a Demon Lord.

Even though I never wished for it.

But for me to not have to work, this world is the best. It must be true that good things happen to good people.

The flavor of Sloth is as sweet as honey. Glory, diligence, virtue, or honor. I have no interest in anything like that.

What’s there to hide? The Lazy king is… none other than me.

In the interstellar era, gangs and predators are rampant, all over the galaxy. Chen Han, who makes energy blocks for a living, is bullied at the bottom of the society. In order to survive, he throws himself into the darkness and becomes a member of the gang. At the end of the road, he obtained a super warship that can be transformed unlimitedly as long as he has resources, and founded the notorious bandit gang “Beiliang”. At this point, the endless plundering began…

- Description from novelbuddy

I smile. I know I smile. I just don't know when.“Entropy?” After all, the blood in my veins dried up decades ago, only dust remains.“Ephemera?” My begging longingness—all of my dreams, devoured by void. Left is but an empty shell—hollow inside.“Life?” Paradox.“Death?” Cold, but equal for all. Just like the blood in my heart's arteries and veins— frozen—time immemorial.“Universe?” Its fabric—time and space, wrapped around like some illusion, a grand simulation—just like that dream...faint, but there.“Dream?” I couldn't tell...very...disorderly like chaos, like silhouette in the mist, hard to capture, it's memory very faint.“Home?”“Home?”“Are you there?”...***Reality fiction.