Cultivator of the End: I Refine My Own Death - Chapter 142 – The Corpse General’s Smile

When he first crossed over, Chen Liguo did not want to accept it.

Shi Han was lost when he was a child, and when he came back, the family already had another adopted daughter who was loved so much, and she was targeted and disgusted by her parents and elder brothers.

It wasn’t until a car accident that she was given up by her biological mother that Shi Han finally realized it.

“Isn’t it nice to live alone? What kind of parents and brothers do you want?”

Shi Han is no longer pleasing his biological parents, developing his own career, and paying for a little wolf dog.

The little wolf dog is young and beautiful, with a slender waist and long legs. He is good at washing and cooking, and she couldn’t be more satisfied.

Shi Han’s love career has a double harvest, the violin, the medical boss keeps losing his vest, his true love fans are on the rise, and his parents regret and beg for forgiveness.

Shi Han laughed, “Heh~”

I thought she was the only one covering the vest, until Shi Han saw the CEO Lu Yan who could influence the international economy.

Not only does she look exactly like her husband, but even her name is exactly the same.

“Who is this?” Shi Han pointed to the cold-faced man in a suit in the photo.

“It’s a bit like me.” Lu Yan didn’t change his face.

“…”

- Description from novelbuddy

In a world entrenched by monsters filled with myriad factions, state disputes run wild. Amid these troubling times, martial arts have come to prominence and prosper.

Xu Ning transmigrates to this world with a Martial Arts Panel and becomes an ordinary villager. He only has one goal in mind: to become a master of martial arts.

Spend three energy points to level up Gale Knife Technique? Yes/no

Yes! Hell yes!

I found myself in a parallel universe, awakening as a male priest. Everything seemed perfect; after all, as a healer, specializing in aiding women should pose no issue, right? However, I couldn’t help but wonder about some peculiar spells in my repertoire.

Firstly, what in the world is the “Instantaneous Outbreak of Acute Gastroenteritis” spell? And don’t even get me started on the “Osteoporosis” spell. What purpose could these serve in my healing endeavors? The confusion only deepened with spells like “Blood Burn,” “Gradual Freeze,” and “Mental Chaos.” Can I still peacefully focus on healing women with such ominous abilities?

Comparing my spells to those of other professions, I couldn’t help but notice the stark contrast. Mages wield “Doomstorm” and “Ice Age,” swordsmen boast “Sword Rain: Homecoming” and “Wind-Cutter Slash,” while archers showcase “Arrow Rain: Shooting Stars” and “Storm Arrow.” Yet, my ultimate spells are disturbingly named “Cancer Cell Proliferation,” “T-Virus Infection,” and “Rabies Outbreak.”

In the midst of it all, a certain character, some crying girl, laments, “Noooo, I just took a bath, who would have thought that I would become infected!”

Meanwhile, a villain chillingly asks, “Do any of you know what it feels like to burst apart while spouting blood? No! You don’t know!”

Even a boss character confesses, “Dear family, who can understand? I just took a nap, and when I woke up, I suddenly found that I have no kidneys!”