Wizard World Irregular - Chapter 955: If I Remember Correctly, Your Name Is Lebron

Seeing the cause of justice, the student Ning Tianlin, who was strangled, accidentally gained a combat system in the local government and returned to Yang.

What the hell, your fighting power is only fifty, then you still pretend to be me! I’m sorry to tell you 10,000 points of combat power!

What are you doing, have you been boiled down, trained in martial arts, and practiced iron gear? The fighting power is five hundred? That has something to do with me, I won’t tell you, the clothes I wear, but combat equipment! Just a single underwear, can add a thousand fighting power to me!

Hey, why do you say my combat power has increased so fast? Can I tell you that if I step on an ant and destroy a cockroach, can I increase my combat effectiveness?

- Description from uukanshu

In the Bog forest, dangers were in every corner. During the nighttime, the thick white mist blinded the eyes and the chilling air froze you to the bones. Once morning arrived, thousands of ferocious mutated animals as big as the hills roamed for prey.

Among them lived the weakest species on the Meer Continent, the Monster Species. They only survived with their tough bodies in the midst of a world ruled by magic power.

To the mage, they were simply pests that were easy to be exterminated.

To avoid the eyes of the mana rulers, they had to hide in secluded places; in the caves shrouded by shadows or in the dark underground where filth was brimming. But, continuing to hide was not a solution.

When warbeasts sharpened their claws, elves polished their weapons, humans feasted on their greed, and demons searched for prey with their thirst, an orc named Moku was born.

Moku was a world MMA champion who transmigrated into the body of an orc in the magical world. He had always dreamed of possessing superpowers; being able to jump beyond the clouds, shattering the mountains in one hit and running faster than sound.

Moku dreamed of having these powers. He used rituals, magical lore, and all the things that were considered myths and fairy tales in his home world to make him and his tribe stronger.

A promise was deeply engraved by him. One day, he would bring the war to those who underestimated them.

A pill, a tiny capsule encased in a biologically harmless water-soluble shell; A shell whose very existence is a result of a century of research and technological advancement. A manmade synthesis of Chemicals and product of complex processes.

And in the end, a means to an end.

A way to deliver a concoction of other Chemicals for an agenda; Vitamins for nutrition, medication for treatment, or… perhaps more.

We trust that what we eat won’t do us harm, and trust that those who are responsible for its creation had the best of intentions. But in the end, it is difficult or perhaps impossible to truly tell what lies within a pill.

That is until one day I entered a research institution as a test subject. All I did was swallow a pill I was told to be a health supplement.

Until he became the lowest-ranked master, his lonely and luckless life never changed.

Suddenly one day, a descendant injected him with a nanomachine, and the machine started ‘speaking’ to him.

“What? What are you talking about?”

This was beyond the boy’s knowledge, he turned pale.

The Nanomachine linked to his cerebrum realized the User was not understanding a single word it said.

“Who are you, and why are you doing this to me?”

“Nano Mashin?”

The boy’s face hardened.

Mashin was the deity the Mashin Religion worshipped, along with the Sacred Fire.

The religions’ Master communicated with Mashin.

“Um, are you really Mashin?”

The boy knelt down and asked with a trembling voice. At this, the Nanomachine attached to his cerebrum realized it had been misunderstood.