Building the Strongest Undead Empire from Scratch - Chapter 111: Plundering was faster than mining

Nicholas Phire was sentenced to life in prison without any possibility of parole. Because of the mercy of a lonely prison guard, a new world is presented to him. Nix finds himself in the Virtual World of Colonial with a hundred-year assignment as Lifestyle player in the Gladis Hub. Will Nix stay in the remote village located on the polar Ice Cap? Or does adventure await for the man whose life was supposed to be over?

It was well known that in every novel, there would always be a supporting male character like this:

They were either crazy about the female lead or willing to work.

Even if they gave themselves a green hat, they were ready to.

The female lead was misunderstood by the male lead, so he came to explain.

The female lead had career problems, so he came to help.

In the end, he only got a sentence from the female lead: “I just think of you as a brother.”

He could be used against the male lead. In the end, the male and female leads ruined him as the strong prevailed over the weak.

After Gu Jingyu became one of those miserable supporting male characters in the novel…

The heroine of the domineering novel said: “I just think of you as a brother.”

Gu Jingyu: “Thank you. My mom only gave birth to me.”

The heroine from the modern-day time-travel novel: “This is a vegetarian snack that I have carefully developed for you. I think you’ll like it.”

Looking at the spicy veggie meat stick in the heroine’s hand, Gu Jingyu fell into silence. Did he look like a fool?

The useless protagonist in the immortal cultivation novel said: “For thirty years, people east of the river prosper, then for another thirty years those on the west prosper: life is full of ups and downs. Don’t bully the poor youth! You wait, I will definitely come back to take revenge.”

Gu Jingyu directly imprisoned the protagonist until he ascended.

- Description from Novelupdates

Amidst the eerie silence of an unfamiliar hall, a cacophony of confused voices rose, mingling in a chorus of bewilderment. “Where are we?” “What happened?” “I thought I died!” Each utterance hung in the air, a testament to the collective disbelief gripping the room.As the haze of confusion lifted, disjointed memories surfaced, fragments of lives cut short by tragedy. “I remember... I was stabbed...” ventured one voice, echoed by another's affirmation of a similar fate. “I... I died in a plane crash,” muttered a third, only to be met with a stunned agreement from a fellow survivor.Amidst the chaos of bewildered voices, one man stood apart, his expression a mask of contemplation amidst the turmoil. As his companions recounted their brushes with death, his mind churned with questions, each more confounding than the last.“I got shot... I remember it vividly,” he murmured to himself, his voice barely audible above the din. “So how am I still here?” The enigma of their shared resurrection gnawed at him, compelling him to seek answers in the depths of his memories.With each revelation of a paired demise—a male and female, bound by the same tragic fate—a flicker of recognition ignited within him. “This... this seems familiar,” he mused, the pieces of a puzzle slowly coalescing in his mind. But the picture remained incomplete, obscured by the fog of uncertainty that shrouded their surroundings.As the words “pairs, pairs, pairs” echoed in his mind like a cryptic mantra, a sudden realization struck him with the force of a revelation. “It can't be... don't tell me...” he whispered, his voice trembling with disbelief. With a sense of urgency, he began to scan his surroundings, searching for any sign or clue that could confirm his suspicions.Then, as if guided by an unseen force, his gaze shifted upwards, and there, bathed in an ethereal light, stood an angelic figure with golden apparel, its gaze fixed upon him with a warm smile. The sight took his breath away, filling him with a mixture of awe and trepidation.The man's heart raced as faced a real angel, his mind struggling to comprehend the surreal encounter unfolding before him. The angel's words, spoken with an air of amusement, only deepened the enigma shrouding their meeting.“I never expected anyone to notice me,” the angel remarked, a hint of playfulness in its voice. “I was concealing my presence to let everyone fully calm down, but to think someone noticed me. Just who are you?”Ethan's disbelief and confusion intensified at the angel's question. “Eh... Ethan Rivers,” he stammered, his voice barely above a whisper.As Aurelia, the angel, finally revealed himself to the bewildered assembly, a hush fell over the room, each soul drawn in by his radiant presence and commanding aura. Ethan's gaze lingered on Aurelia.“Greetings, lost souls,” Aurelia declared, his voice resonating with a majestic power that seemed to fill the very air around them. “I am Aurelia, and I shall be your guide to your new life.”As Aurelia extended his arms in a gesture of welcome, Ethan felt a surge of rage and hesitation, “This it bad, really bad.”

The country girl, Emily, was an orphan. She survived off the scraps that she could find from families around her. Every one of them despised her.

One day, a fairy-like little brother came to the city and brought her home.

At first, Emily wasn’t popular in other people’s homes, but she quickly awakened her god-tier learning talent. She could learn pretty much anything and everything in an instant.

Soon, Emily was regarded as a child prodigy. She was proficient in all sorts of arts, including zither, chess, and calligraphy, and that’s just the tip of the iceberg.

The elders and older brothers who didn’t really like her in the past were all captivated by her and spoilt her like a little fairy.

Every day, her grandparents, parents, uncles, aunties, and brothers fought to pamper her.

Grandpa said, “Baby, can you help Grandpa take a look at this painting?

Grandpa liked to collect oil paintings, but his deteriorating eyesight couldn’t discern good paintings from bad ones, and he kept getting tricked by sellers . So he had to consult the seven-year-old Emily because paintings that passed through Emily’s hands were never wrong.

Her father pleaded, “Baby, help me. The chairman of the Gu Site Corporation wants to get a calligraphy painting from you. This will determine whether my company can land a deal with them!”

Her brothers pleaded. “Baby, are you busy today? When are you going to visit your brother’s school? I promised the principal that I would bring you there. You can’t go back on your word.”