Requiem of Subdued Souls - Chapter 87: Flute Of Foreboding (7)

The leader of the thousand demons, the Demon God Chun YeoWoon. Due to an unfortunate accident, he had been sent to the distant future.

What do you do when you wake up and find yourself inside the very game that you love?

What do you do when you realize you that you have not only become an NPC – you have even been thrown back in time to before the game even launched!

What will happen when our protagonist’s two realities coincide?

Han Xiao was a professional power leveler before his transmigration. Using his past life’s knowledge, Han Xiao sweeps through the universe as he prepares for the arrival of the players. This is definitely not your typical transmigration novel.

The mighty heavens exist, ruling over all things. Those favored by its will are granted power and fortune, while those who dared to oppose it perished, leaving none behind. This is the tale of a man who once defied the heavens, underwent multiple reincarnations, and returned once more to the cultivation world. But here’s the twist. This young man remembers nothing of his past lives and is simply a teenager from Earth. How will he who has no knowledge of cultivation and experience in fighting, survive this grim world while being an inner disciple of a lower realm force—or so Xiao chen, the teenager thought till he heard a systematic sound in his mind. [Ding! Host has awakened the heaven’s destined villain system!]

[Longevity + Discipleship + No Female Lead + Lighthearted Humor with No Tragic Moments]When his master picks food, he spins the table there;When his master chants spells, he chats without a care;When his master takes rest, he sings a lively song;When his master lies late, he bangs the pot along;His master lives on long, but his life is rather short;His master lays him down on the hillside, as a sort;His master lifts a cup, but he won’t take a drink;His master shares a tale, but he won’t stop to think;His master holds a feast, but he leaves the table wide;His master calls his soul, but he’s nowhere to abide.Spring returns to the hills, with blooms so bright and fair,Yet master and disciple are parted, one in heaven, one elsewhere.