The Transmigrator’s Cultivation - Chapter 175 - Arc 12: Ruyi Xianzhuang | : Highly Respected Women

Reborn at the turn of the century, residing in Moscow, freshly off the plane, preparing to study abroad...Wang Ye only ever wanted a quiet life of modest wealth, to live his days in peaceful bliss.Yet, pushed along by the hand of fate, he found himself helplessly walking down the path towards becoming an oligarch!

You emphasized harmony your whole life and this is how you go…!’ The successor of the Spear Master Sect and his apprentice Hyuk Woon Seong were framed of learning a forbidden Demonic art and slayed.

A helpless and pitiful death by the hypocrites of the Orthodox sect.

The moment Woon Seong faced his death, the artifact of the Spear Master Sect emitted light and gave him a new life.

The life as Number 900, a trainee of the Demonic Cult!

The two identities, the Orthodox Sect and the Demonic Cult.

But his objective is one. Vengeance! Accepting his destiny and remembering his grudge, Woon Seong trains in martial arts and his time of revenge slowly comes closer….

Take over the Demonic Cult and punish the hypocrites of the Orthodox Sect! The revenge story of Number 900, Woon Seong growing in tasks of life and death.

“201th, 202nd…”Zhou Can, an Intern of Tu Ya Hospital, a Grade A Provincial Tertiary Hospital, would silently count every stitch he finished.His target today was to complete 300 stitches and fight for a place in the House Officer recruitment two days later.[Congratulations on completing your 100,000th suture and triggering the EXP system. Medical skills and surgery practice can be obtained.]Zhou Can shook his head hard.What the hell is this?Something even more magical happened as he thought about it.An interface appeared in front of him.[Zhou Can, Intern.][Pathology Diagnosis, Level Two. Current EXP: 89.5/100. Outstanding House Officer-level diagnosis ability.]A surgical legend was in the making.

I had finally done it—achieved the ultimate Paladin build. Maxed stats, impenetrable armor, and so many resistances that death itself had given up on me. I was an unkillable tank, an indomitable force. Nothing could stop me.And then my PC exploded.I died.Irony, thou art a cruel mistress.But instead of the afterlife, I woke up as my Paladin character… in the wrong freaking genre. Instead of castles and dungeons, there were people flying around on swords, shooting qi beams like fantasy laser guns.“This is definitely the wrong genre,” I muttered, watching a pompous young master sneer at me.“Kowtow, kiss my foot, and beg for forgiveness!” he declared.I looked at my imaginary maxed-out health bar, then at his flimsy silk robes.Oh, this was going to be fun.