Sword Saints Should Go Tank - Chapter 567 - : Evil gods on strike, a million true spirits!

Ghost stories descend, binding national fate.People enhance themselves and their nation's luck by constantly participating in Analog Horror.Mental patient Jiang Xiao is initially selected to enter a nine-star level mental hospital Analog Horror!However, he bizarrely finds out that he seems to be the most seriously ill one...Jiang Xiao: “I sign a pact with the ghost stories, the weirdness is my grandson!”Participating in the seven-star level Analog Horror “Where Did Daddy Die”.A peachy-cheeked son with big eyes blinking asks: “Do you want to be my daddy?”The chosen one: “Yes!”Son: “Then I have a tiny request, which is to beat you to death!”One chosen daddy after another is smashed into pulp by the son right from the start.Facing the rebellious son charging forward, Jiang Xiao smiles coldly: “Dad, I'm actually your son!”

DING![Ist Skill Devour Successful]______“They say a man's skills are honed over a lifetime, but what if he could devour them all in an instant?”Ryuen Takeru, a skilled, retired assassin, decides to pursue a better job that would keep him away from the dark life he once led.However, after a while, that peace was shattered when an unexpected train ride derailed reality itself, throwing him into a world and a life he had always hated.A world teetering on the brink of ruin, destroyed by an apocalypse as a result of the unending war between multiple races.Unfortunately, the post-apocalypse had already begun.Ryuen finds himself captured, exchanged, and made to serve kings of different nations.Yet fate had more in store for him.A devastating twist, capable of destroying or elevating him—the one thing he had overlooked as normal until the moment he was informed.A curse.Possible reincarnation?[Skill Devourer Activated: Plunder, Consume, Adapt, Evolve.]Nevertheless, for everything given, something must be taken—or perhaps sacrificed.

...[Inside an underground basement]“You are going to die for nothing, hahahaha,” the old man's voice thundered through the room, sending chills down my spine.Step.With a swift and ruthless motion, he lunged forward, his sword slicing through the air and slashing my throat, crimson droplets staining the darkness.“We'll see,” I whispered defiantly, my final words escaping as a mere breath against the impending darkness.Slowly, inexorably, my consciousness slipped away, and I descended into a deep, unfathomable slumber.“Huh!?” My eyes fluttered open, and I found myself seated in a bustling tavern, the air thick with laughter and the clinking of glasses.In front of me stood a captivating lady, her beauty juxtaposed with an angry furrow upon her brow, threatening to shatter the harmony of the jovial scene.“Don't follow me around!” Her words pierced the air like shards of ice, the intensity of her emotions palpable as she cast a resentful glare in my direction, before swiftly departing from the tavern....Am I trapped within the confines of a game? The fragments of my shattered common sense scattered before me, leaving me to question the very fabric of my reality.