Previous chapter: Chapter 371
Next chapter: Chapter 373
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... at was what Yang Maocheng felt.

In his opinion, with Yang De here, the Flying Phoenix Great Restaurant was like Mount Tai that no one could shake, but he did not expect that the mountain would collapse even faster after the mountain god came back.

Before the Eighteen-arhat House could show its power, Yang De had already announced that the Flying Phoenix Great Restaurant had been successfully bought by the Divine Dragon Great Restaurant. All the chefs would be taken over by the Di ...

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Ning Su’s hair is soft, his skin is pale, his expression is slightly sluggish, his body is thin, and he is out of place in the crowd of passers-by.

He listened to the people around him discussing how to clear the level of this dungeon, and asked: “I survived the level, does it count as clearing the level?”

The people around looked at him like a fool: What a pity.

After entering the dungeon, Ning Su really started to live a life of his own.

If there is a gloomy skull on the castle, Ning Su will pick it up and make it into a night light to sleep beautifully.

The waterfall turned into blood, and he took the stew in a small milk pot, his eyes shining brightly.

Occasionally, he will also make small clothes for ghosts crawling on the ground.

Later, he really survived, the NPCs are sticky to him, the ghost master followed him and called him ‘mother’, and he still had the bloody heart of the flower god in his chest.

“…”

For Ning Su, there is food and drink in the infinite horror world, which is much more wonderful than his previous life.

He lived in the doomsday era and used to be a supernatural being, but his supernatural power is different. He is a special dark supernatural being who can absorb all dark things.

The person in charge of the base asked him to purify the zombies and sent him to the zombie group.

He turned into a little dark zombie.

Humans did not like him, all dark beings loved him.

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The smell of blood invaded my nostrils. I watched helplessly as the woman standing over me raised her sword. I was completely drained, I had no mana left, no items, nothing. As the crimson tendrils held me down by my arms and legs, all I could do was wait for my death.

As the sword drew near, I felt the last bit of courage I had disappear. I was going to die. Alone. In this god forsaken place filled with evil. And for what? To protect those ‘friends’? The same people who mocked me, took advantage of, and used me?

Oh, who am I trying to fool? I was here only because of my own greed. Because I wanted to be useful to someone. Because I wanted to that group to need me. To value me. To have a reason to keep me around. How naïve I was, thinking that power would grant those wishes. All it did was help build a wall between me and everyone else.

The sword approached. I saw the purple light reflect off the sword’s blade. After everything I went through, I hadn’t expected my death to be by the hands of another player. I saw her smile, but this time I didn’t think it was beautiful. It was an ugly smile because it was genuine. She was enjoying watching me die. She was enjoying killing me.

The sword struck my chest and pierced my heart. I let out a scream of pain and agony. The pain was so real, all of this was so real. It shouldn’t be, but it was. What should have been a simple game had become my new reality – all of our new reality. A reality filled with magic, war, blood, and death.

My vision darkened as the pain slowly faded. I felt the last of my vitality leave my body. It felt cold. I wondered to myself, when would I stop being? When would my thoughts disappear?

Soon, I saw those words I feared for all this time appear before me. “DEATH”, in the pale blue font the game always used. They remained suspended in the air for several seconds. It was over. After a long time of fighting, grinding, and exploring, it was finally over. I had died. This was the end of my story.

Suddenly, words before me shifted and changed into something different. I took a shallow breath as I heard a faint heartbeat.

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