Tribulation of Myriad Races - Chapter 1149: Im Actually An Expert Counterfeiter (2)

Harry got a strange Life Achievement System which assigns missions that reward him for acting like a scumbag and earning Scum Points.Scum Points Could can be exchanged for powerful magical items, rare abilities, and tools that give Harry an edge in both life and business.At first, he resents it. Then he gets curious. And finally… he gets hooked.But being a scumbag is a high-risk profession. One wrong move, and he could lose everything, even his life. To survive this dangerous game, Harry must walk the line between manipulation and strategy, charm and ruthlessness.He’ll cheat, scheme, and hustle his way to the top.

Xiao Feng, the protagonist of the story was an ace at online games. By accident, he knew a game called Mystery which can reduce human’s energy consumption and improve the space-allocation on the earth. In this game, he hit monsters, increased his levels and met a lot of friends. However, at the same time, he was inevitably drawn into the struggle within and outside the labor union. What should he do? And what difficulties would he face? The following are his inner monologues.

I was killed in the game and asked him/her to fight offline only to find that she was a girl. What should I do?

I wanted to be a support and carry my team-mates only to find that all of them were newbies, what should I do?

Please don’t court death and let me kill the boss with the hammer!

To conclude, this story is about a support who would have liked to carry all his team-mates. However, after realizing that support could not save the world, he resolutely picked up the hammer and killed the boss in the game.

- Description from Novelupdates

This is a story of a little man who walks forward silently, in awe, and strives to chase his dream.

- Description from novelbuddy

[Longevity + Discipleship + No Female Lead + Lighthearted Humor with No Tragic Moments]When his master picks food, he spins the table there;When his master chants spells, he chats without a care;When his master takes rest, he sings a lively song;When his master lies late, he bangs the pot along;His master lives on long, but his life is rather short;His master lays him down on the hillside, as a sort;His master lifts a cup, but he won’t take a drink;His master shares a tale, but he won’t stop to think;His master holds a feast, but he leaves the table wide;His master calls his soul, but he’s nowhere to abide.Spring returns to the hills, with blooms so bright and fair,Yet master and disciple are parted, one in heaven, one elsewhere.