The Sickly Scion's Petite Wife Is Sweet And Cool - Chapter 938 - : The Dust Settles (2)

“Look at him,” someone snickered from a few rows over. “Smells like he sleeps in a dumpster.”“Probably does,” another voice added, louder this time. Nox just stared at his textbook, the words blurring. He had heard it all before.Then, Mark, one of the main reasons his life was a living hell, swaggered past his desk. Mark always had a smirk on his face. “Oops,” he said, not even trying to sound accidental, as a full cup of bright orange juice tipped over, splashing all down the front of Nox's already ruined shirt. The cold liquid soaked through instantly. Laughter erupted around the room. It was loud, clear, and mocking. Nox slowly looked up. His eyes landed on Ms. Joy, who was watching the whole thing. She had seen Mark deliberately pour the juice on him. He raised his hand, a small, tired gesture. “Ms. Joy,” he said, his voice flat. “He just poured juice on me. Are you just going to ignore it? Again?.” Ms. Joy looked at him, then at Mark, who was now theatrically wiping his hands. A small smile played on her lips. Then she chuckled. Just a little airy laugh.“Oh, Nox, don't be so dramatic. Boys will be boys, right Mark?” Mark puffed out his chest. “Yeah, Ms. Joy. He's just sensitive.” The class laughed even harder at that. Ms. Joy joined in, her laughter ringing out with theirs. Hearing them all, hearing her laugh, something in him finally snapped. It wasn't a loud break, more like a quiet, final click. He realized it then, with a cold, hard clarity. No one was coming to save him. No teachers, no police, no parents he never had. No one cared. If he wanted this to stop, he would have to be the one to stop it. He was the only one who could.His face remained blank, but his mind was suddenly very clear. He reached down slowly, his hand going into his worn-out school bag. The laughter died down a little as a few students noticed his deliberate movement, a strange stillness about him. He pulled out a gun.The classroom went silent. Utterly, completely silent. Mark's smirk vanished, replaced by wide, terrified eyes. Even Ms. Joy stopped laughing, her face paling. “What… Nox, what are you doing?” she stammered, her voice suddenly shaky. He didn't answer. He looked around at their faces, one by one. Fear. He saw fear now. Good. He was ready. He was going to make them all pay. He was going to end it, all of it.Just as he was about to raise the gun properly, a bright blue screen appeared right in front of his face. It was translucent, and only he seemed to see it. [Congratulations! You have met the requirements!] [1st Player Chosen!] [You have won the System!]

When people awaken, their class gets ranked.F means nothing.SS means everything.Nobody talks about SSS ranks, because they aren’t real. Well, they weren’t real until he became one.Lucen Ivara was fine with staying average. Keep his head down, take low-tier jobs, eat something hot once in a while. That was the plan.Then his system came online.It didn’t follow the rules.There were no guides. It seemed limitless. There weren’t any safety rails he could cling into.Just a blank interface and a quiet message floating in front of him.[You are the first.]Now Lucen is crafting spells no one’s seen before, hiding a class that could get him killed, and trying to scrape by in a city where dungeon breaks, guild politics, and hidden power plays are part of daily life.He’s not looking to be a hero.But with power like this, staying invisible might be the hardest thing to do..

Of all the characters in this story, it had to be the son of a bitch!?Thanks to the courtesy of Truck-kun, I was transmigrated into the famous yet garbage novel, [Hero's Apocalypse].The character I possessed was a third-rate extra who had the [Talent] to 'plunder' other talents. Yet, as overpowered as it might sound, the conditions to fulfill a successful plundering were extreme, making this character truly befitting a third-rate trash.But that's not what's important right now—it's the fact that this man's role in the original story was his very death, and I opened my eyes after the original body just finished killing himself.“Fuck! Why did you attempt to sexually assault the Imperial Princess?!”Feeling livid, I strongly punched the mirror in front of me, knowing that as soon as I gained a new life through mysterious means, others would inevitably come to take it because of this bastard's unforgivable sin.But I wanted to survive...Motherfucker, can I do it?!

Brave, wretched, kind, cunning, generous, greedy, elegant, vicious, happy, perverted, honest, prudish…

In this doomsday world, only by winning in the alien battlefield can resources be obtained to ensure the continuation of civilization.

Every soldier who enters the alien battlefield will randomly get a keyword of his own.

If the words and deeds match the key words, various attributes will grow rapidly and obtain superhuman abilities. On the contrary, if the human design collapses, it will quickly weaken;

This is a world of acting skills;

Acting is eating and drinking, acting is glory, acting is privilege, acting is life…

…

There are already completed Wanding works “Dream Master of Ten Thousand Worlds” and “Ten Thousand Ways to Eliminate Players”. The completion of this guarantee is guaranteed, please feel free to enter the pit.

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