I Cultivate Passively - Chapter 55 - Drawing Passive Skills Again

“Look at him,” someone snickered from a few rows over. “Smells like he sleeps in a dumpster.”“Probably does,” another voice added, louder this time. Nox just stared at his textbook, the words blurring. He had heard it all before.Then, Mark, one of the main reasons his life was a living hell, swaggered past his desk. Mark always had a smirk on his face. “Oops,” he said, not even trying to sound accidental, as a full cup of bright orange juice tipped over, splashing all down the front of Nox's already ruined shirt. The cold liquid soaked through instantly. Laughter erupted around the room. It was loud, clear, and mocking. Nox slowly looked up. His eyes landed on Ms. Joy, who was watching the whole thing. She had seen Mark deliberately pour the juice on him. He raised his hand, a small, tired gesture. “Ms. Joy,” he said, his voice flat. “He just poured juice on me. Are you just going to ignore it? Again?.” Ms. Joy looked at him, then at Mark, who was now theatrically wiping his hands. A small smile played on her lips. Then she chuckled. Just a little airy laugh.“Oh, Nox, don't be so dramatic. Boys will be boys, right Mark?” Mark puffed out his chest. “Yeah, Ms. Joy. He's just sensitive.” The class laughed even harder at that. Ms. Joy joined in, her laughter ringing out with theirs. Hearing them all, hearing her laugh, something in him finally snapped. It wasn't a loud break, more like a quiet, final click. He realized it then, with a cold, hard clarity. No one was coming to save him. No teachers, no police, no parents he never had. No one cared. If he wanted this to stop, he would have to be the one to stop it. He was the only one who could.His face remained blank, but his mind was suddenly very clear. He reached down slowly, his hand going into his worn-out school bag. The laughter died down a little as a few students noticed his deliberate movement, a strange stillness about him. He pulled out a gun.The classroom went silent. Utterly, completely silent. Mark's smirk vanished, replaced by wide, terrified eyes. Even Ms. Joy stopped laughing, her face paling. “What… Nox, what are you doing?” she stammered, her voice suddenly shaky. He didn't answer. He looked around at their faces, one by one. Fear. He saw fear now. Good. He was ready. He was going to make them all pay. He was going to end it, all of it.Just as he was about to raise the gun properly, a bright blue screen appeared right in front of his face. It was translucent, and only he seemed to see it. [Congratulations! You have met the requirements!] [1st Player Chosen!] [You have won the System!]

Above lies the Nine Heavens Galaxy, with its awe-inspiring celestial power, and below lies the vast earth, where ants gaze at the sky.Martial artists can communicate with stars, awaken the power of the stars, and embark on a path against the heavens.Stars can be divided into beast types, artifact types, and miscellaneous types. Among them, beast types are led by dragon stars.“You... you are actually a dragon-type star? How is this possible?” a peerless genius exclaimed in shock.Lin Feng smiled calmly, “I'm sorry, I have eight more like this!”

In a world ruled by mana and bloodlines, John White was born with none.Reborn from Earth into a noble family, he became the forsaken son of a duke (a bastard) bullied by siblings, ignored by servants, and banished at fifteen like trash.Two years later, he's dragged to a mana mine to be quietly killed by his brother's lackey. But fate has other plans.Deep underground, an ancient abyss-grade ring awakens. It merges with Earth’s forgotten technology with the world’s magic. Fueled by pure mana, it unlocks the Black Hole magic, granting him power never seen before.From a worthless outcast to a terrifying Void Lord, John begins crafting magical tech tools that warp reality itself. His enemies have no idea what’s coming.Will he burn his past to ashes… or rebuild the world in his own image?

Lin Qing He transmigrated into a novel and became one of its cannon fodders. The novel’s background is non-viable 1960s, a time of want to eat but nothing to eat and want to wear but nothing to wear.