Galactic Garbage Station - Chapter 811 Meditates Part 1

Somebody once told a joke.A man ran in place all his life. He worked a job he didn't love for people he couldn't stand. But at the end of the day, the number in his bank account went up.That man got a second chance at life. He woke up in another world, full of adventures and romances and monsters and gods. And floating above his head he saw the number “1”. So what did he say?“Gosh I better make the number go up.”Not today. Not for this old soul. Reborn as a beast of battle meant to live a short life and die screaming, Garek refuses. He puts the madness of skills and levels behind him and sets out to found a little farmstead. He grows crops. Maybe someday he'll get a pig, and have bacon.It's a shame the world won't let him be. It's a shame that the warmongers and level-grinders hate nothing more than a soul at peace.He put down his sword for a plowshare, but when trouble comes calling, he'll pick it up again.

"Lu Lijun! what're you doing?"

Cyril was a Harry Potter book fan. He unexpectedly obtained a chatterbox system that said it would take him to experience the desired Wizarding World.

He rubbed his hands together gleefully. Was there such a good thing?

However, once the system was finished, he found that this Wizarding World didn’t seem quite right?

Cyril (eyes shaking: Forest monster? Brass steam train? Gloomy wizard’s tower? Wizarding academy of the fittest? This wasn’t right!

System (forcing itself to be calm): Magic creatures! The appearance doesn’t matter! The architecture isn’t the key! It is still a wizarding academy! There isn’t anything wrong with it! Not bad, not bad!

Cyril struggled to make it through the Blackheart Wizard Academy. Fortunately, there was the gentle and courteous chief gentleman to cling to. This was until he found that the handsome chief seemed to be plotting against him…

My god! This seemed to the other identity of the crazy great magician and necromancer?

***

According to legends, the dark, paranoid, crazy and perverted great necromancer rubbed the white and delicate neck of the beautiful young man in his arms and whispered, “My dear, I heard that you have been very close to the commander of the Holy Light Knights recently?

Cyril denied it three consecutive times with an innocent face, “I’m not! I didn’t! Who is talking nonsense?”

- Description from Novelupdates

With a hideous visage they came to be known as goblins.