Heavenly Dao Engine - Chapter 94 - 00 The Underworld Market

Adrian Voss was a forgotten beta tester—erased by a corrupt game company that put profit over players.Now reborn in Primordial Abyss with a glitched class that lets him control dungeon bosses, he doesn’t grind levels… he grinds players.Every monster he subjugates becomes a weapon. Every raid boss he enslaves earns him passive income. And every overconfident guild that steps into his domain?They drop loot when they die.But this isn't just another OP power trip. Adrian doesn't win because he's stronger—he wins because he's smarter. He lays traps like a raid leader, exploits mechanics like a dev, and rewrites the system from the shadows.From dungeons to PvP, he turns the most advanced gaming system ever built into a weapon that stabs its creators in the back.Now the streamer assassins, sponsored guilds, and even the developers are hunting for the one they call...The Dungeon Phantom.Too bad they don’t realize:The real dungeon isn’t the game.It’s the one they’re walking into.Let the hunt begin.

Jobs, hobbies, lifestyles—the world has advanced to a point where nothing can be separated from VR anymore. And now, a VR game was released using the most cutting-edge technologies; its name was “Boot Hour, Shoot Curse.” Our protagonist had no choice but to play solo during the closed beta test, but once the game officially launched, she made lots of friends (but not necessarily with the players), formed a huge clan (but not a clan of players), and matured as an individual.

“We campaigned for a century, prevailing against all obstacles. The sole exception being the Marshal, who could not be defeated…… the military fame of the Marshal endures, yet the Alliance has been utterly crushed. From this day forth, all the glory belongs to the Marshal, himself.”

As the Alliance government that stood for a thousand years crumbled, the Galactic Empire rose into power. The supreme military leader of the Alliance, Gavin Silla, refused to surrender and chose to fight to the death for his nation.

“Your Majesty, in the Age of Old Earth, mint blossoms were believed to be an omen for reunion. In the language of flowers, it means—

—hoping to see you once more.”

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