Weapon Master - Chapter 2085

“Yan,” the protagonist, was brainwashed by the emperor and lived as his puppet. After finding out he was being played by the emperor, he planned to seek revenge, but collapsed due to the emperor’s might. He thought he had died, but when he woke up, he realized he had regressed to the time when he was a recruit. Whether to seek revenge on the emperor or to find his family. The choice lay in his hands.

When the Soul Plague arrived, it struck fast, transforming its victims into soulless monsters. The horde swept across the land unchecked—until the Awakened appeared. These survivors, immune to the plague, turned the tide of war into a bloody stalemate. But while the front lines held, the plague continued to spread and the horde only grew in number.Desperate for reinforcements, the World Government began conducting controlled infections of its able-bodied citizens to produce more Awakened. Hill was one of the conscripts. After going through a harrowing trial induced by the plague, his life was torn apart and remade: he emerged Awakened, endowed with strange new powers—but also bound by a dark curse that resides deep within his own soul.As Hill learns to wield his abilities alongside fellow survivors, he uncovers unsettling truths about the plague’s true nature and the hidden price of becoming one of humanity’s last line of defense.

His name was 25. On Avalis, he was just one of many tasked with fulfilling missions for Earth’s people. This time, he was given a simple one—live as Zeno Han and have an ordinary life.Easy. Or so he thought.The moment he took over Zeno’s body, someone shoved a script into his hands. “You’ll be perfect for this role!” And just like that, he was on set.[Fame Meter: Unable to Measure. Off the charts.]Doctor? Check. Pilot? Check. Eunuch? …Regrettably, check. Every script forces him to relive past missions, and somehow, he’s nailing every performance. Now, the industry wants to make him a star, but can he still complete his mission? Or will fame—and the terrifying unknown of failure—be his final curtain call?

One day, in front of my eyes appeared a silver-haired Goddess.

What kind of bullsh*t is this woman spouting?

“…What?”

No, I’m not.