Reincarnated as Napoleon - Chapter 358 Daphne’s Troubles

The system says that curing a person will get good doctor points, and killing a person will get bad doctor points. When the 100 points are reached, the skills of good doctors or bad doctors will be randomly selected.

Why do I always feel that bad doctors are better than good doctors…

Nani?

Does the captain’s orange count as a bad doctor’s skill?

You lie here and don’t move, I’m going to buy some oranges.

- Description from novelbuddy

William was once a gamer ranked in top 20 worldwide. After his death, he found himself in the body of an insignificant NPC in the game “God's Apocalypse.” This NPC was doomed to die early in the game, filling William with dread because he knew he had only three months to live.The game world of “God's Apocalypse” was rich with many different fantasy races, from elves to dwarves, each offering unique opportunities for him to make use of, as well as challenges to home oneself.William was terrified because he had the knowledge of the game's future but lacked the power to change his fate.However, he was not without options. He retained his game panel and the unique talent “[Jack of All Trades],” which allowed him to learn skills from various professions.William realized that when the game's beta opened, players would arrive. As an NPC, he could assign quests to them and use his knowledge of the game's future to manipulate them to do his bidding.He began to leverage the abilities of the players to alter his fate and grow stronger.William made alliances with various races, gaining their trust and learning their secrets. This enabled him to transcend the boundaries of his initial condition and steadily increase his power.As William's power grew, players in the game started to complain: “This boss is impossibly strong and keeps getting stronger, we demand a nerf!” They were frustrated by his rapid progression and the unique challenges he posed.In contrast, the elves venerated him: “Lord William is the ultimate chosen one, bringing an unparalleled peace to our realm.” They saw him as a savior who brought stability and hope.The mages revered him as well: “He is the trailblazer of magic, our protector. His name, William Cain, is synonymous with the god of the arcane.” They admired his innovative approach to magic and his role in advancing their knowledge.When asked how he managed to achieve such feats, William simply responded, “Knowledge is power, and it's the one thing I don't lack.”

Xia Zhinian has transmigrated into the book, and the original owner is a disgusting cannon fodder villain, determined to and the protagonist were robbed by Yan Ci, and finally had an accidental car accident, and Liang Liang went offline.
Others want to change their destiny by transmigrating into a book, but his young master Xia is different, he just wants to transmigrate back through the plot.
Xia Zhinian tried to mention the protagonist Gong to anger Yan Ci, so that he could be beaten according to the original text, but Yan Ci only held his wrist and tied a gold chain with a long tail on it, his eyes were cold, “There is nothing wrong with what you say.” It’s the one named Chu, and you like him so much?”
Turning the subject around, I asked him: “What color bracelet do you like every year, gold, silver, or black?”
Xia Zhinian: “??”
…Is there something wrong with you?
Later he discovered that Yan Ci was obsessed with cleanliness, but he had severe skin hunger and thirst. Every time he had an attack, he was in pain, but he never went to the protagonist Gong for help. Instead, he hugged him and rubbed him.
And diverted all the attention that should have been on the protagonist Gong to him? !
This shouldn’t be, the plot doesn’t go like this!
Xia Zhinian was worried, he wanted to go back to the original world, and waited until the end to finish the lunch box.
So he planned a car accident for himself.
Gao Xingxin closed his eyes, opened them again, and met a cold and gloomy face.
In the room with the doors and windows closed, Xia Zhinian lay on the bed trying to struggle, but found that his whole body was sore and his hands and feet were numb. Footsteps sounded, and someone stepped to the bed step by step, casting a large shadow.
Yan Ci was condescending, stroking the black bracelet on the young man’s wrist, his tone was soft but terrifying.
“Having a car accident on purpose every year, do you want to escape from me?”
Xia Zhinian: “?!!!”
Xia Zhinian tried his best to show a cute smile, “Brother, I was wrong, I have something to say, let go first, uh–!!”
His mouth was blocked, his hair stood up slightly, his fingertips slid on his neck, and the voice in his ears was cold and gentle.
“Hey, I don’t accept verbal apologies.”
Seemingly well-behaved Pipishou × seemingly gentle, paranoid, possessive and super aggressive.
①SC
②The original text has nothing to do with the attack, the original text is transferred to the attack
③Attack and subject have grown up

Content tags: rich and powerful family special liking sweet text wearing books
Search keywords: Protagonist: Xia Zhinian, Yan Ci ┃ Supporting role: ┃ Others:

- Description from novelbuddy

war, blood, and betrayal carved him into something else. A legend. A killer. A mercenary whose name struck fear into both criminals and so-called heroes alike.But now, the world had changed. Lines blurred between right and wrong, between justice and vengeance. Should he step into the light, wear the mask of a hero, and fight for a cause greater than himself? Or should he embrace the darkness that had always been his home, a place where morality was just another illusion?“Don’t box me in with your shallow ideas of good and evil,” he muttered, his voice calm but edged with danger. “I do what I want, when I want.”The air was thick with tension as he moved like a shadow through the dimly lit room. The writer had no time to react—one moment, he was scribbling nonsense about legends and myths; the next, a cold barrel pressed against the back of his head.The figure smirked beneath his mask, eyes gleaming with something between amusement and menace.“You wanna write fiction?” he whispered. “Then let me show you how real legends are made.”A single gunshot shattered the silence.As the writer’s body slumped over the desk, the man holstered his weapon, stepping into the faint glow of a flickering neon light.“It’s that simple,” he said, his voice unwavering. “I’m Deathstroke.”