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... a low voice as Kai kept staring at the symbol.

His eyes were wide in disbelief and he rapidly blinked his eyelashes as though he thought that the symbol would vanish at any second. But that didn't happen.

The glow surrounding the symbol started to dim down as Kai took a sharp intake of breath. The glow died down after a few moments but the symbol still remained on Kai's chest.

He raised his right hand and touched the symbol slowly. And to his shock, he could feel the symb ...

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“Doctor, there seems to be something wrong with my mood.”

“There is a clown in the West Side Circus, he can make everyone laugh, I think he can help you.”

“But, doctor… I’m the clown.”

“…”

This is a fantasy world after the cataclysm, where countless underground cities left over from ancient times are buried under the misty land.

There are traps, monsters, and different-dimensional spaces in the dungeon, as well as taboos of ancient gods and legends of countless treasures left over from the past.

Calamity, steam, curse patterns, ancient relics, playing card sequences with extraordinary magic power.

Remnants of the Old World, Relic Asylum, Poker Brothers, Coven, Fire Pirates, Walls of the World…

In the shadowy corners of the world, a treasure hunter wearing a clown mask walks alone in the dark.

He is Joker Ji Xun, the King of Disaster Cards!

PS. For those who are short of books, you can read the 300W+ Wanding old book “Mechanical Alchemist”.

- Description from novelbuddy

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In a realm where even the faintest shadows whisper untold tales, I came to realize that the forgotten often hold the most powerful narratives.As an avid admirer of the world's most beloved series, I never imagined that one night's rest would pull me into its very fabric.“Why on earth am I stuck in this world? And why, of all people, am I him?”I had become Arthur Nightingale—Class A’s most unremarkable student. A magic swordsman barely worthy of mention, ranked 8th among the first-years. A mere footnote in the grand story.Still, with this body’s abilities and my own insider knowledge, I figured I could carve out a peaceful life. Or so I believed.“This was the only way,” the voice repeated, resolute. “The only way to stop her.”Little did I know how truly unique Arthur Nightingale was—or the path this journey would force me to take...

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Life from birth has been nothing but hell. I lost my parents to some stupid aristocrats whom they offended. Executed for no good reason.

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No, this is worse than hell!

I watched my sister die of starvation. Her lips were dry and her feet bloody. Her nails were broken and her fingers riddled with cuts. She struggled in my hands and after a few seconds of struggle she passed away. She seemed joyful in death so I prayed mine will come just as swift and merciful as hers.

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“Haven’t I suffered enough? Can’t I just rest?” I cried out. Why would I want to stay back in such a cruel world?

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