Death Scripture - Chapter 942 - A Protest

Freshly turned eighteen, John Newman, a helpless nerd, suddenly gets video game abilities granted to him. A mysterious higher power, a secret Abyss of magic beneath the surface of the normal world, mages, martial artists, eroticism, tragedy and a harem of hot girls awaits.

After Song Juyao died and emerged from the virtual world, she learned that her entire life had just been a reality show which was led and controlled by others.

One billion viewers watched this live broadcast, all of them pointing fingers at her and ridiculing her life whilst the director team thought up every possible method to design setbacks for her, pulling her into the mud over and over again.

Then, Song Juyao was reborn. This time, her memory was not suppressed.

This was a crazy world. People were discontent and bored of their lives. They had also lost their enthusiasm for various kinds of entertainment, falling to the point of seeking all sorts of thrills in order to arouse their emotions.

Later, they found a precious treasure. She was perfect. They held her in the palm of their hands and went wild for her. They even regarded her as a God and worshipped her fanatically.

- Description from Novelupdates

Tigers beget tigers, and lions beget lions. But not in this case.Mao Jin, the only son of the Dust Valley Sect Master, became the laughingstock of the sect due to his trashy talent.At eighteen, he was still stuck in the Mortal Rank-1 realm, with no hope of breaking through to the next stage.Even his parents had given up on him as a cultivator, wishing only for him to live a mortal life.However, everything changed when Mao Jin earned his first income. That was when he realized—what he truly needed wasn’t talent, but money.With money comes unparalleled talents.From a nobody to a visionary, watch as Mao Jin transforms the Dust Valley Sect into a thriving business hub while rising to power!

How long I’d been here, I couldn’t quite recall. From this sorry situation, I as always raised my eyes to the sky; a sky in which the great, massive sun was clad in levity. Sunlight poured gently upon all. What a blessing it would have been for the world if only the skies could remain clear. For tomorrow too, and for all days to come, I was to continue to pray for calm. To endure for those who cried, with desperation I remained in prayer.

And then, one freezing, forlorn, soulless, stagnant, drizzly day we died. Or so I thought…