MTL - My Sword Intent Can Be Infinitely Improved - Chapter 112 Those who hold wages for all living beings should not let them freeze to death in the wind and frost

Buried alive. Forgotten by the world. Cursed to refine death itself.Rin Xie clawed his way out of his own grave with nothing but broken nails, shattered bones, and a core pulsing with rot. In a world where the heavens punish the wicked with celestial fire, where death cultivators are hunted like beasts, Rin awakens with a forbidden path—one that feeds on pain, suffering, and the ashes of the dead.He cannot heal. He cannot forget. But every wound, every betrayal, every death he witnesses becomes fuel for his ascension.Under a crimson eclipse, he walks through battlefields where spirits still scream. In deserts of bone, he consumes lotus flowers blooming from despair. He learns techniques the heavens sealed away in fear—Soul Wither Pulse, Requiem Bloom, Grief Reclamation.But the deeper he dives into death, the less human he becomes.He no longer cries for the fallen.He no longer prays for peace.He begins to wonder—what kind of death should he become?In a world where power devours morality, Rin Xie will either become the end of all things...Or something worse.

Poisoned by his wife, betrayed by his best friend, and abandoned by his children—Matthew died broken and alone. But when he wakes up thirty years in the past, trapped in his eighteen-year-old body, everything changes.Now, the halls feel haunted, memories from a future that may never come keep popping into his head, and something strange is growing inside him—something he can’t explain. Sadly, this second chance isn’t a blessing. It comes with a price.But this time, he won’t be the victim. This time, he’s the one in control.

Weary reader, it is an honor for you to choose this book in this heavy, dark library room.

Somewhat sadly, the book is sick.

Your fingers should be able to feel the raised growths on the surface of the book cover,

The words written in the old days are like parasites rooted in the pages of the book, hoping that someone can observe their wriggling,

To feel, to analyze, to touch the story of the disease.

If you insist on borrowing this book, be sure to check your physical condition regularly.

- Description from novelbuddy

The hearse with the weird odor slowed to a stop before the entrance. The sound of pebbles could be heard bouncing on the ceiling. There were footsteps coming from the corridor, and there seemed to be someone sawing next door. The door knob to the room rattled slightly, and the faucet in the bathroom kept dripping even though it had been screwed shut. There was a rubber ball that rolled on its own underneath the bed. Wet footsteps started to surface one after another on the floor.
At 3 am, Chen Ge held a cleaver in his hand as he hid beside the room heater. The call he was trying to make was finally answered. “Landlord, is this what you meant by ‘the house can be a little crowded at night’‽”

- Description from Novelupdates