Parallel - Chapter 137: Alternative Interview

He transmigrated and got a system but Lin Feng’s pressure is as big as a mountain.

Bai Xiao descended, lifting his head to not only see the bizarre and magnificent world but also the professional modifier he had downloaded before crossing over.“Drain all experience from my sub-occupations, 'Biological Mecha Master', 'Mystic Explorer', 'Special Hypnotist', transforming it into one million potential points, all enhancing my main occupation, 'Fighter'!”“I... have obtained the golden ultimate occupation, 'God of Martial Combat'!”The largest urban agglomeration in the world, a night of torrential rain.On the ground, countless Killing Ghosts and Fighters fought to the death, while hordes of metal Mechas and Biological Armors exploded and self-destructed. Blood and flame intertwined, plunging everything into primordial violence and chaos.Atop a high tower, Bai Xiao stood silently amidst the rainy darkness, like a stiff and terrifying statue. His crimson eyes looked down below, restrained yet bloody, cold yet hiding madness.He leaped down with his trench coat wildly dancing.The God of Martial Combat descended upon the final battleground!A cold voice echoed across the city skyline.“Next, I will kill everyone present! If you have the ability, try to stop me...”A modern city of extravagant luxury, an era of entertainment and consumption supreme.Beneath seventy years of peaceful façade, lied another mad and bloody Inner World.Fighters, masters of their martial traditions, and Killing Ghosts, controlled by combat modes, engaged in a frightful, relentless slaughter.Metal Mechas with terrifying energy and Biological Armors extracted from monstrous cells commenced a brutal struggle between old and new technologies.In this era infested with machinery and altered by external entities, to proclaim the power unique to humans might be an unimaginable romance...

“You’re not taking me to bed. Ever.”

It was understood that this was a capitalist country, where the possession of the greatest amount of capital determined to whom the nation effectively belonged.The smile that had been resting on William Sheffield’s face was abruptly erased as his expression turned cold. In a tone laced with determination, it was demanded by him that the police be contacted immediately so that they could crush those who stood in their way. The reasoning behind his words seemed clear: if such actions had been taken before by someone like Rockefeller, then why should it not also be possible for Sheffield?A sense of irony hung in the air as the sentiment was expressed—this was America, where each day seemed to unfold as though it were part of an ongoing shootout, with battles fought not just with guns but with power, influence, and wealth.