Doomsday: with unlimited warehouse system - Chapter 258 The Mutant Weasel

Yin Xu, a super genius of cultivating demonic arts in history. However, once his failed to get through the tribulation and became a mortal, even a reputed good-for-nothing at last.So what if he was a tr*sh, he can still cultivate the demonic arts!So what if he couldn’t ascend, he can still be the lord above everyone else, but excepting someone!As to the man…Yin Xu: “Next time, I must ride on you!”Teng Yu: “Good! If you don’t want the Yang energy to replenish your Yin energy.”Yin Xu: “Oh! Forget it. Cultivating my demonic arts is the most important!!!”

"God of Mischief is interested in you and wants you to be his emissary. Do you accept?"

With blood and wounds covered his entire body, the voice echoing inside his mind was like that of a hope shining upon him.

In the glorious future era, mankind had discovered the bottom of the sea and conquered the sky, but they also accidentally opened the Pandora box that shouldn't be opened. They found a place where lived numerous unknown creatures.

Here, humans will wrest their lives to step upon their greatest evolution and create their own myths, including Theodore.

Faced with betrayals, surrounded by beasts, and faced with imminent death, he answered with resolve and tenacity.

"Yes!"

Karl awoke to find himself shockingly reduced to a crippled Evil God confined within a bottle.The Fischer family had inadvertently become his favored members, sharing a fate connected by blood throughout the generations.They established a secret clan, infiltrated the state, manipulated wars, ascended the God Pantheon stairway, and fought for the honor and future of the family.They were assassins lurking in the shadows, beloved scholars, esteemed priests, powerful dukes, and legends in heroic epics.From budding to robust growth, steampunk evolved; the Spirit Realm descended through dreams; witches and ancient gods stepped forth, and people listened to the lost whispers at their ears.They were both the creators and the enders of stories.Generation after generation, in a continuous succession, they marched forward.“Step over my corpse and go on,” he said.