The Sinful Young Master - Chapter 204: Roar of the drake

Korean entertainment novels, I don’t like it.

There are already three copies, character protection, never TJ.

- Description from novelbuddy

The middle boss of the AAA-class game produced by the company. The villain who dies 999 times out of 1,000 times. Deculein.That person, was me now.“You’re going to die on almost every route.”Deculein, like all villains, inevitably dies.[First and foremost survival goal: Be what the game requires you to be]I’ll have to survive even if it means twisting my fate if I am destined to die.

Gu Zuo: Are you sick?

Gongyi Tianheng: You have medicine?

Gu Zuo: You’re sick!

Gongyi Tianheng: If I say I’m sick, can you cure me?

Gu Zuo: If I say I have medicine, would you want it?

Gongyi Tianheng: However much you have is how much I want.

Gu Zuo: However much you want is how much I have.

Gongyi Tianheng: Then bring it all out.

Gu Zuo: …

Simply speaking, a scaredy-cat shou transmigrated and had to think of a way to survive. He had a golden finger called Medicine Refining System, but unfortunately, he didn’t have the ingredients needed to refine medicine and level up.

A great young master to an Empire’s preeminent Clan had a super high IQ, but his talent for cultivation was low. Unfortunately, pill refiners were too hard to develop, and weren’t restricted to his personal service. But he could acquire plenty of ingredients.

Two people, one was sick and one had medicine. Therefore, the one who was sick kept the one who had medicine, and everyone was happy.

- Description from novelupdates

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.