God of Internet - Chapter 55: Internet Pantheon

Sometimes dying isn’t even the worst part of your dayMark has been reincarnated into a dead town in a bog, one that has been recently destroyed and occupied by ravenous undead. They disappear every day and return again at night, mindless and hungry, hunting for any survivors. He’ll need to use cunning and subterfuge to avoid them, because since he was transported into the body of a child, he can’t level up. At least not yet.Bog Standard. It means “totally normal”, right? But for the small towns found in these bogs, there's no quick rescue and not much trade. Everything has to be made to last. To them, it means “excellent quality”. Mark will have to prove he's Bog Standard if he hopes to survive.This is an Isekai of excellent quality. It’s a progression fantasy set in a LitRPG world, rags to riches with an eventual OP main character. The pacing is slow-burn, incremental progression, sometimes slice-of-life, punctuated by moments of intense violence and possibly traumatic content.

Klaus had spent his entire existence as a puppet, bound by the strings of fate. However, a miraculous turn of events granted him a fresh start. The remnants of his former constraints smoldered in the ashes of his past. Now, unshackled and determined, he resolved to forge his destiny according to his own desires. No one, not even a deity, would be spared if they dared obstruct his path. Klaus was ready to wield the sword of vengeance and carve his own fate in the annals of history.

Graduate student Yi-han finds himself reborn in another world as the youngest child of a mage family.

– I’m never attending school, ever again!

‘What do you wish to achieve in life?’

‘I wish to play around and live comforta-‘

‘You must be aware of your talent. Now go attend Einroguard!’

‘Patriarch!’

My future would be guaranteed once I graduate. For my future!

The dojo is located in Yunzhong Mountain, and there are halls and fields.

Sitting under the ginkgo tree in leisure time, looking at the dust and clouds in the distance,

Hoe the ground and listen to the sound of springs, forge swords by the fire,

Food and clothing are up to oneself and God,

I don’t know the end of the cold year;

When the robbery comes, you have to go to the lower reaches of the mountain to watch the bitterness and sweetness of the world.

It’s hard to keep injustice in your eyes, and you don’t like to show it in front of others.

The gourd of wine at the waist is deep, and the light of the sword behind the back is cold,

Not for fame, not for money,

Be a free spirit.

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