Trash of the Count's Family - Chapter p2-103: TCF Part 2 - Unbelievable (2)

The next day.“I’ve stressed this time and again—I’m responsible for making the ethos of the cultivation world off-kilter! History is written by the victors, and I’ve triumphed!” Sword Immortal Lu Yang expressed his ire during a press interview.—Brought to you by The Cultivation Times.(Translated by Rakumon)It is the first day of the twelfth month of the year—a suitable day for the launch of this novel (I hope… :3) I am Rakumon, the translator of Who Let Him Cultivate?! This novel is known for its refreshing humor and imaginative ideas in the Chinese community. If you like a witty protagonist, interesting side characters, a mystery plot in the background, and plenty of comedy, do read on and be a part of Lu Yang’s journey! I have previously worked on Consort of a Thousand Faces and Transmigration: Of Mysteries And Songs on Volare. It will be my first time translating a novel from this genre, and it definitely doesn’t help that this novel is heavy with jokes, puns, wordplay, memes, poems, cultural references—you name it. Nonetheless, I will try my best to bring them across to all of you, and please also feel free to share your comments!

Miss Witch's 'warm' daily life in the Cyber Interstellar Era, occasionally epic and impassioned.————She was a timid girl who grew up in the cyber metropolis.She was a crying child trudging through the mud.She was a Legendary star admired by the vulgar masses for her transcendence.She was a dark songstress who brought sorrow and tears to the world.She was a cold-hearted Witch who could not speak of false hope.She was a bloodstained Angel singing the finale...

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.

A short, happy, and heart-warming story about the daily lives of a modern-day married couple.