Journey of the Fate Destroying Emperor - Chapter 162: Peak Battle (3)

Facing a meteor, I wished for a stable and respectable job and money to spend, only to become the lucky one physically carried away by the meteor.After drifting through chaos, I was reborn as Nezha.The good news is all my wishes came true, the bad news is the world is not right.Nezha, carrying fragments of the Creation Jade Slip and Chaos Pearl, doesn't want to follow the old path of becoming a tool for Taiyi to avert disasters, so he apprentices under Nuwa.What do you mean I killed Ao Bing? I don't know Ao Bing, you should ask someone else.What do you mean Yin Shou is tyrannical, he is just an enthusiast of cultivation.Stone Ji is a spirit born from rocks, naturally, she matches my expertise in mending the sky, so let her be my good friend (tool).Why do you say Zhao Gongming looks simple-minded? I think he looks very much like my brother-in-law.Let’s see how Nezha securely cultivates in the prehistoric world, defying fate and ascending the Great Dao.

Demons, devils, ghosts and monsters

Plunge the mortals weak in horrors;

Arms of gods and blades of devils,

Shroud the world in untold evils.

Lu Sheng was an ordinary civil servant in the modern world. After waking from a drunken stupor one day, he found himself trapped in a dangerous world where demons, ghosts and supernatural monsters terrorize the land.

In this world, ordinary mortals live in dark fear and helplessness, without any means to fight against the supernatural.

As Lu Sheng struggles desperately for survival, he stumbles upon a game mod he had designed for a mobile phone app in his previous life. It unexpectedly becomes his special ability, which enables him to instantly level up any skill he learns, albeit at a cost.

Thus, Lu Sheng begins his journey, striving for power beyond the reach of a mortal as he treads the way of the Devil…

It was understood that this was a capitalist country, where the possession of the greatest amount of capital determined to whom the nation effectively belonged.The smile that had been resting on William Sheffield’s face was abruptly erased as his expression turned cold. In a tone laced with determination, it was demanded by him that the police be contacted immediately so that they could crush those who stood in their way. The reasoning behind his words seemed clear: if such actions had been taken before by someone like Rockefeller, then why should it not also be possible for Sheffield?A sense of irony hung in the air as the sentiment was expressed—this was America, where each day seemed to unfold as though it were part of an ongoing shootout, with battles fought not just with guns but with power, influence, and wealth.