Overlord: Welcome the Birth of the King - Chapter 45 - : A Mutated Goblin? A Carefully Laid Trap

[A Kung Pao Chicken that does not look as good as it tastes]Ever since Jiang Feng had stumbled upon the discovery that he could actually see the descriptions of the dishes his father made, his life had taken a dramatic turn…1. This game entitles players to ultimum autonomu. Please explore it by yourself.2. This game will not interfere with any choices made by the Player. Please do your best to unlock the achievements.3. The game reserves the right of final interpretation.

Zhang Xuan traverses into a foreign world and becomes an honorable teacher. A mysterious library appears in his mind. As long as it is something he has seen, regardless of whether it is a human or an object, a book on its weakness would be automatically compiled. Thus, he became formidable.

“Emperor Haotian, why don’t you like to wear underwear? To think that you’re still an emperor, can you pay more attention to your image?”

“Fairy Linglong, if you continue to suffer from insomnia, you can always look for me. I have a way with lullabies!”

“You as well, Qiankun Demon Lord, can you cut down on the garlic? Do you want to stink me to death?”

…

This is an incredible story about the heritage between teacher and students, cultivating and guiding the world’s strongest experts.

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.

When the night came, there was a twittering sound in his ears, and the monster in the shadows began to move restlessly. Jason’s hungry stomach began to roar, and he couldn’t help swallow his saliva. Hunger was the best spur.