THE VILLAIN'S POV - Chapter 93: Unfair Battle (1)

Year 2022, December the 1st. This was the day it all began.

Labyrinths had started forming all around the world, hundreds and thousands of people lost their lives as casualties.

Mutations followed after, occurring amongst the people, they began awakening super powers, the same for animals.

However these mutations brought along a virus. It quickly spread amongst the dead as they began to rise. Humanity had begun its fall.

Gray who had given up all hopes of living life, was granted a system with a special ability. On the very same day, of the outbreak, he was consumed by a labyrinth.

By the time he had gotten out, a week had passed. It was hell all around. A virus had broken out from the mutations, the dead were walking and spreading this virus.

However this was only the beginning.

Over time the mutations began to evolve and people learnt that the through the cultivation of their powers, they could improve their abilities.

[Unique Trait – Those you meet will remember you. No matter what happens, they will remember you forever.] In a world on the brink of ruin, people summoned to save it are categorized as heroes and extraterrestrial workers, abbreviated as “foreign workers.”For some reason, I became a foreign worker who is loved by transcendents that view humans as mere insects.

One morning, after being bound to the system, MC started his routine of always being captured/ attacked by the ML.

The boundless universe is full of many wonders.

I, Chen Ping, only have one sword!

I can move mountains, overturn the seas upside down, suppress demons, slap the face of gods, pluck the stars, break rivers, destroy cities, and… open the heavenly abode!

***

The Midland world was full of wonders.

In the center of the world, there was a scholar who had once used a sword to slash out a waterfall of the Milky Way. This was the person he was the most proud of.

At the edge of East Sea’s cliffs, there was a nameless Daoist who was unwilling to ascend to the peak of a mountain. He only wished for a cool breeze to brush against his face.

In the Western Pure Land, there was an old monk who liked to treat people to chicken soup and tell stories.

In the southern border of the Wilderness, there was a blind painter who controlled golden-armored puppets that were as tall as mountains to move the hundred thousand mountains, creating an embroidered picture.

A impoverished youth who grew up in the north. One day, he saw tens of thousands of Sword Kinesis Immortals above him, like a swarm of locusts crossing the border.

He wanted to see for himself the scholar that the storyteller had mentioned, the surging tides of the East Sea, the vast swamps of sand in the west, and the majestic mountains of the Southern Wasteland.

Thus, one day, the youth picked up the wooden sword and began to descend south.

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