Pestilence: Rise Of The Pure Undead - Chapter 702 - Perfect

"I'm starting to think you're the scariest monster in here." - And that's just what her friends say about her.When Emil...

[Pre-Author's Note: MC develops as time passes, it starts out slow but surely]“The Apocalypse isn't just fit for anyone... Without Strength, you're just a tool waiting to be exploited, So hurry the fuck up and get some strength already,”The world ended in an instant.One moment, Simon, a 20-year-old game designer, was sitting at his desk, immersed in code.The next, the sky cracked open and monsters poured into the streets.Werewolves with claws sharp enough to slice through steel.Undead skeletons that marched with deadly purpose and Zombies that infected humans with the power of their bite.The gods had unleashed an apocalypse, and humanity was no longer at the top of the food chain.Simon ran, he survived... and then he was granted a power.|Congratulations You have been binded to the Vampire Overlord System|He was something else.A vampire overlord.Yet the Apocalpyse had only just begun...

He crossed over to a new world where humans have magical power. They are called warriors. They use their power to kill the monsters that appear out of nowhere. Dragons, Dungeons, and Magic users are pretty common in this world. If you want to live in peace, you need to have that power. You can also become a powerful clearing dungeon.

In this dangerous world, he has a system that can help him grow stronger. But he didn't want to be a high-profile warrior who attracts much powerhouse attention or become a lab rat. He wants to be Low-profile and grow strong using his system.

For twenty years since his soul had transmigrated, Bailuo thought this was an ordinary world, until one day, a black leather book appeared in his mind.“Is there magic in this world?”Facing Bailuo’s question, his uncle remained unwavering as he said, “No.”“But there are miracles.”“What are miracles?”“A sword that can release flames, a pot that can pour out gold, a beautiful girl grown from a fruit.”The uncle said, “Controlling the mist, bringing the storm, commanding the thunder.”“Magic!”Bailuo raised his hand and pointed, “This is definitely magic!”“No.”His uncle said, “These are truly miracles.”Years later, when Bailuo looked upon the nation he had built with his own hands, that magnificent and majestic sight, he agreed with what his uncle had said all those years ago, “This is a miracle…”