Isekai Nonbiri Nouka - Chapter 887: The Wedding Reception (II)

Our straight (?) bottom woke up ten years into the future and found himself on the bed of his childhood friend… At the start, the bottom was shocked to his very bones, but he soon quickly accepted this premise and found the whole situation to be rather amusing. Precisely then, the bottom once again went back to his timeline — back to when he and the top were just platonic childhood friends.

Annan transmigrated to a new world – the Land of Dense Fog. He had become a rare elite NPC who possessed the player’s system.

However, he had the heart of a player.

I like to stir up matters, and unbridled. But, I’m a kind player. The ally of justice who is favored by this world.

I’m on a main mission. As the righteous player, I’m following my destiny to eradicate you, the evil NPC!

Dear player, I’d recommend you to stop running away. The mission is completed. I’m the righteous NPC now to punish you, the evil players…

—

In the long dark night, the crimson moon hangs high in the sky.

Hoarse whisper patrols the streets. The brass steam engine is emitting blood mist.

Your brain is in ecstasy; your eyes are enchanted.

With cracked skins, it sprouts new flesh.

In the gray mists, shirek cries come from the flesh wall that consumes thousands of corpses…

“Stop crying, our players don’t bite. They just want to play with you.”

The Solitary Schemer, Number 1 Player, Land of Dense Fog’s Savior, Leader of 13 Saints, Friend of 12 Upright Deity, Pioneer King, “The Righteous One,” Gatekeeper of Forth Disaster, Crownless Deity, the great Annan advised kindly.

“Look at him,” someone snickered from a few rows over. “Smells like he sleeps in a dumpster.”“Probably does,” another voice added, louder this time. Nox just stared at his textbook, the words blurring. He had heard it all before.Then, Mark, one of the main reasons his life was a living hell, swaggered past his desk. Mark always had a smirk on his face. “Oops,” he said, not even trying to sound accidental, as a full cup of bright orange juice tipped over, splashing all down the front of Nox's already ruined shirt. The cold liquid soaked through instantly. Laughter erupted around the room. It was loud, clear, and mocking. Nox slowly looked up. His eyes landed on Ms. Joy, who was watching the whole thing. She had seen Mark deliberately pour the juice on him. He raised his hand, a small, tired gesture. “Ms. Joy,” he said, his voice flat. “He just poured juice on me. Are you just going to ignore it? Again?.” Ms. Joy looked at him, then at Mark, who was now theatrically wiping his hands. A small smile played on her lips. Then she chuckled. Just a little airy laugh.“Oh, Nox, don't be so dramatic. Boys will be boys, right Mark?” Mark puffed out his chest. “Yeah, Ms. Joy. He's just sensitive.” The class laughed even harder at that. Ms. Joy joined in, her laughter ringing out with theirs. Hearing them all, hearing her laugh, something in him finally snapped. It wasn't a loud break, more like a quiet, final click. He realized it then, with a cold, hard clarity. No one was coming to save him. No teachers, no police, no parents he never had. No one cared. If he wanted this to stop, he would have to be the one to stop it. He was the only one who could.His face remained blank, but his mind was suddenly very clear. He reached down slowly, his hand going into his worn-out school bag. The laughter died down a little as a few students noticed his deliberate movement, a strange stillness about him. He pulled out a gun.The classroom went silent. Utterly, completely silent. Mark's smirk vanished, replaced by wide, terrified eyes. Even Ms. Joy stopped laughing, her face paling. “What… Nox, what are you doing?” she stammered, her voice suddenly shaky. He didn't answer. He looked around at their faces, one by one. Fear. He saw fear now. Good. He was ready. He was going to make them all pay. He was going to end it, all of it.Just as he was about to raise the gun properly, a bright blue screen appeared right in front of his face. It was translucent, and only he seemed to see it. [Congratulations! You have met the requirements!] [1st Player Chosen!] [You have won the System!]

In the world of dragons and snakes, the talented but congenitally sick martial arts master was reborn as the sole heir of the 19th-century Canadian manor owner. He thought he would make money by practicing boxing, but he took advantage of the industrial revolution to become a giant of the times. The opened template.

In the end, the original owner was a hopelessly sick and consumptive ghost! I am still a bastard having an affair with a gardener…

Wait, what’s up with the claw?

James Howlett looked at the bone claws protruding from between his fingers, and became more and more worried about his future.

- Description from novelbuddy