Yellow Court Daoist - Chapter 531 - 500 Bamboo Cane Connects to the Netherworld, Invincible in the Human World!

Kai’s life was small—coffee-stained mornings, cracked recipes, and a system in his head that tweaked toasters and dough like it was nothing. Then the sky shattered. Aliens—Skraiths, jagged and brutal—invaded, tearing his city apart with green-glowing weapons and relentless claws. Superhumans rose to fight back, fire and lightning blazing through the chaos, but Kai’s world crumbled with them.Hiding in his apartment, Kai stumbles on blood—human and alien, smeared on his wall after a superhuman battle. His system, once just a tinker’s tool, awakens, offering him a choice: mimic their powers, temporary and wild, through the blood itself. Desperate, he takes it—stealing pyrokinesis, then electrokinesis, then kinetic energy, each power burning through him, fading fast. But it’s not enough. Armed with a humming Skraith weapon and a body tougher from alien blood, Kai joins a ragtag crew of enhanced fighters—Liv, Rylan, Jace, and Tucker—scraping to survive in a warzone where every shadow hides death.As Skraiths swarm and the city burns, Kai’s system pushes him deeper, analyzing, integrating, crafting minor enhancements—durability, strength, sparks of power that could make him a target or a savior. Government factions, rogue scientists, and the aliens themselves start sniffing around, drawn to his strange tech and blood-stolen abilities. By the time Kai crafts his first super-powered enhancement—an artificial strength boost—he’s no longer just a tinkerer. He’s on the edge of something bigger, something dangerous, where blood and sparks could forge a hero—or break him entirely.In a world unraveling, Kai’s fight for survival becomes a desperate race to master his system, outrun the Skraiths, and confront the truth: the power he’s chasing might destroy him—or remake the world.

“Evil God of the Universe, You are in every space and time. Present in every dimension of reality and govern the darkness of our world.Oh, almighty Atticus! Hear our plea and grant us your presence tonight, awaken my Lord!”The rain had completely stopped and the strong gale had subsided into the fading raindrops. The night had turned eerily silent and only the sizzling and cackling of the fire entered their ears.Suddenly, they all felt like floating from their feet despite setting foot on the watery, hard ground, as if they were traversing into space. The darkness of the night gradually turned darker, enveloping them, morphing into everyone, like a void eating them slowly. Sequentially, their breathing turned oddly slower. Despite exaggeratedly inhaling air to breathe, it was to no avail, as if a higher entity was limiting them from breathing.Nolan felt his throat and tried to open his mouth to gasp more air but failed. Everyone but him was in a state of indignation and panic as they struggled to breathe to fill their lungs with air. Nolan tried to calm his heart. He closed his eyes and stopped inhaling air in pure panic, instead, he put his heartbeat and breathing into a rhythm. It was hard at first, but after a minute, he found his breathing gradually went stable.His whole being was in pure anticipation of what was going to happen next.After a couple more minutes, the storm completely subsided, the night turned to normal. Nolan remained standing, taking in his surroundings with his eyes closed. Everything turned silent. The eerie atmosphere and the crackling of the fire from the hay figure didn’t even enter his ears. Nolan waited for a couple more minutes, his breathing turning normal. He was reluctant to open his eyes, afraid he might ruin their ritual.“It’s alright now, Young Master. You can open your eyes now.”Nolan’s breathing hitched. He jolted on his feet as he fluttered his eyes open.“Atticus? W-why are you here?”The butler, standing in front of him, a raincoat hung on his arm, smiled. “I am everywhere, Young Master, in order to best serve you.”****Atticus, a demi-god from the underworld, was cast out of his parents' realm and banished to the human world. The reason? He had yet to give them any grandchildren.Disclaimer: This story is a work of fiction and is purely the product of my imagination. Any resemblance to real people, events, or beliefs is entirely coincidental. The intention is not to disrespect or diminish any faith or tradition, but rather to explore ideas within a fictional context. Reader discretion is advised.

Gawain is dead and was transmigrated, but there was a slight problem during the process.
After floating for more than a hundred thousand years on a different continent, he felt that he might need a body to become a complete transmigrator, but he did not expect that…

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You’d think seeing the future would give me a head start on surviving the apocalypse. I had it all planned—until everything I knew shattered when my husband sacrificed himself to save me and our son. Now it’s just me, my three-year-old son Leo, and my cursed gift of foresight that only seems to kick in when it’s nearly too late.I’m doing my best to keep us safe, to find food, to make some kind of plan—“Mommy?”I glance down, trying to ignore the tug on my pant leg as I focus on our supplies. “Not now, Leo. Mommy’s thinking.”“Mommy!”I sigh and finally look down. My three-year-old is standing there, clutching… I blink. “Leo, where did you get a knife?”He shrugs, grinning like it’s the most natural thing in the world.My heart stutters. “No, really. Where did you find that?”I try not to laugh. I mean, he’s three. Maybe he just—found it somewhere? But the next day, it’s a water bottle. Then, a tiny flashlight, somehow with batteries still inside.I don’t even know what else; he’s pulling things out one by one with the pleased grin of a kid who’s just figured out his favorite game.Well, we may just survive this mess after all.Now, if only the universe could have spared me from him. I don’t even know his name, but I know his type: tall, broad, and annoyingly handsome, with an air of calm control that’s out of place in this chaos. Ex-military, if I had to guess, with a voice that’s just as infuriating as his smirk. The man has a habit of showing up at the worst—or best—possible times, with a gun at the ready and secrets buried as deep as those bright green eyes.I mean, he’s probably useful, but I’m trying to keep my eyes on the prize here: survival.For Leo and me.Because, foresight or no foresight, nothing is guaranteed in this new world—except the fact that people like him are trouble.