Wait, How Did My Digital Girlfriend Become a Sword Immortal? - Chapter 199: Kill Without Mercy

Han Qiwu acquired a farm game system similar to Stardew Valley. While farming, fishing, and mining in his own fields, he can obtain high-quality loot. At the same time, he can also craft various ultra-high-quality farming tools, and he enjoys a brand new version loaded with an Oriental Mod!Peach blossoms bloom in March, picked to brew peach blossom wine.Loquats ripen in May, harvested to make loquat cake.Spring doves sing on the roof, white apricot flowers by the village.Learn recipes from Shennong, trade pets with Chiyou.Farming games are indeed fun, but playing can really be a grind!Fortunately, Han Qiwu gradually found the joy in grinding during his exploration...

Every night, he prayed. To every god on Earth.“Please, transport me to a fantasy world when I wake up tomorrow.”And then one day, his prayers were answered.Just not in the way he had hoped for.

A former sporting rifle shooter genius transforms into the ‘Juvenile Butcher’. While originally supposed to have received the death penalty, he was instead fortunate enough to have entered a secret and highly regarded armed force, throwing himself into the ‘Nirvana Project’.

I am Racist.…I mean, my name is Racis T.I was a stand-up comedian. The flop kind. The type who only got laughs when someone else was roasting him.One night, I was doing a gig at a shady, run-down bar—the kind where tattooed bikers drink motor oil for breakfast. I went in with my usual dark humor, but my jokes were getting the same reaction as my dating profile: complete silence.That didn’t sit right with my inner artist, who was already starving to death. So I did what any committed comedian would—I went darker.Turns out, one of my jokes (or all of them?) triggered a guy so hard that he pulled a trigger. Headshot. Instant death.But hey, look at this: A guy got triggered, so he pulled the trigger. That’s wordplay. But who cares? I’m dead anyway.All I wanted was a successful show, people laughing, and maybe a few girls swooning over my wit. I never cared about money. The millions I’d have made would have gone to charity—specifically, 0.001% of it. See? I’m generous like that.Anyway, death is death. My story should’ve ended there.But… if there is an afterlife, I had a simple wish: become a successful comedian, find a loving wife, and have just enough money to afford three meals a day… and maybe a humble little private yacht. Or a jet. But that’s it. Because, like I said, I don’t care about money.Unfortunately, wishes don’t work that way.Because, well—there was an afterlife.And it was absolutely not what I wished for.