Seoul Station’s Necromancer - Chapter 190 - Lord of Ice (2)

Crimson Vale Academy—where reputation is currency, and failure is a stain you wear on your sleeve.Behind gothic walls and spotless uniforms, students aren't just educated—they're measured, ranked, and pitted against each other in a brutal meritocracy. Privileges are earned, not given. The strong rise. The weak vanish.Enter Kairon Vale, a transfer student marked Rank D—the bottom of the bottom. No badge. Just a stitched black fang, branding him as “Obsidian”—a warning to others.In a system where points dictate your value, Obsidian-ranked students claw for every opportunity to ascend into the prestigious Golden or Platinum ranks—where comfort, power, and influence await. But for most, it’s a losing battle.Yet Kairon isn’t here to fit in, impress, or play by their rules. Cold, calculating, and impossible to read, he watches the system… and waits. Because while the academy judges worth by numbers and names—he understands something deeper:Everyone wears a mask. And every mask can be cracked.Let the games begin.

We attend school, find love, work, buy a house, pay our housing loans, insert weird faces in WeChat, watch movies… do any of you find anything amiss? One day, a group of strange people entered this world, equipped in strange clothing and possessing extraordinary powers, cold-blooded killers! They call themselves [Players].

“I saw with my own eyes that they used the finest, rustproof refined steel to make utensils and cans, filling them with just a little food, then casually throwing them away after eating.”“I saw with my own eyes that they used giant beasts as tall as mountains to devour soil and rocks, digging out underground cities, just to park their steel carriages beneath the surface.”“I saw with my own eyes that they fed glowing ores into an everlasting stellar furnace, unleashing a radiance brighter than the sun.”“I saw with my own eyes all those indescribable things.”“Their iron birds covered the sky, their steel ships filled the ocean, their war machines tore the earth asunder, and their gods walked upon the world.”“You must think I’m mad.”“But it doesn’t matter.”“It has already seen you.”——————Oil is Its blood.Thick smoke is Its breath.Ore and steel are Its food.The countless cargo ships in the harbors are Its myriad offspring.The place of origin stamped in the corner is Its silent mockery.They claim they are mere mortals.Child, you’d best not argue.You must understand:Their technology is beyond comprehension.Their production capacity is unimaginable.A mere glimpse of their creations will drive you insane.Their morale surpasses even the most fanatical worshippers of dark gods.How will you stop them?With your sword, child? Or your flesh and blood?You should be grateful that they still consider themselves mortals.——————“I’ve finished building my factory, and now you’re telling me this world runs on idealism?!”“Wait, then what the hell did I just create?”

The light-hearted love story of a (vampire) zombie and an idiot.