Transmigrated to Ancient Times as a Female Prison Guard - Chapter 20: I don’t Deserve It

50,000 years ago, Hell was destroyed because of too much Foul from the resentment of the souls that later turned to Soul Eaters and devoured everything in their wake, leaving nothing of Hell. The gods above in Heaven, in order to take care of the newly-died souls, created the Afterlife Department comprised of grim reapers.

Huo Ling was delivering food that day when he met Yi Bing and the guy gave him a warning. When he arrived to the customer's unit, he was killed.

Huo Ling: you set up a death flag for me!

Yi Bing: I'm a grim reaper. I'm the flag myself. Let me help you solve the mystery of your death.

Huo Ling: your sister!

Alternative title: The Different Ways I Died at 23

Update: daily

Pick up a free master,

Cultivate ultimate teachings,

Steal a fox to be your pet,

Seduce a demon to be your husband.

Traveling through time and space is not scary, the only thing to fear is a lack of culture.

They all say that the road of cultivation is long; the best road to walk is the road that is most suitable for yourself.

That’s just a lie!

We travelled through time and space, we will walk other people’s path so that they have no path to walk.

There’s nothing to worry about if you can’t get tried.

We can pass some else’s trial and become our own deity.

One day, Yoichi who grew up while not knowing his parents has received the news of his father’s death. His father left behind a testament——which said he is to pick only one out of five ‘little sister candidates’?!

Let someone else go to war, you, lucky Austria, go get married! What the god of war can give you, the god of love can also give you.

The smoke of the Napoleonic Wars has dissipated, and the Vienna system that once brought peace to Europe is riddled with holes. Beneath the seemingly peaceful appearance, there is a vortex of the times with undercurrents, the tranquility before the storm.

The air is filled with the steaming mist of sweat, and the choking black smoke makes it hard to breathe. On the elegant dining table, a group of soldiers and fat men in suits are pushing each other, feasting on the feast called the world, hanging on the wall Van Gogh’s self-portrait with waltz in his ears.

Suddenly the music turned into a march, and the picture also turned to the battlefield. Soldiers marched in a neat line, walking towards the machine gun barbed wire.

A shell fell on the ground, and after the smoke passed, countless cavalry rushed to the artillery position.

Accompanied by a loud noise, a wooden plane flew close to the ground, then pulled up rapidly, broke through the clouds, and shone brightly.

- Description from novelbuddy