Apocalypse: I have a supermarket stocked with supplies - Chapter 176 - Be a lemon

“Young man… if you could go back in time, what period would you like to be in?”

As an alchemist who was once called a ghost in the world of comprehension, Lin Jing didn’t really have much opinion on changing her shell and changing the world, as long as she could still make alchemy.
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No, the people here don’t practice pills, they only practice medicine. Lin Jing calmly accepted the fact that she had become a pharmacist, and then devoted herself to the great cause of refining magical potions.
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It’s just that when her potion came out, everyone exploded.
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Customer No. 1: “Oh my God, what kind of medicine is this! My stool accidentally touched a little, and it ran away with long legs!”
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Customer No. 2: “What is your stool running away? My pet stole my medicine and even started swearing at people!”
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Client No. 3: “What are you guys? My house drank the potion and flew straight away. Do you feel the horror of waking up early in the morning and finding yourself in outer space?!”
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Lin Jing calmly ignored the unfriendly experiences of the customers. She is just a little pharmacist, she only makes medicine and refuses to bear the consequences.

(This article is also known as [Daughter-in-law, she is cute, sweet and sticky], well, this is a sweet pet text in a cool skin (〃?〃))

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Content tags: Time-traveling female strong interstellar sweet text

Search keywords: Protagonist: Lin Jing ┃ Supporting role: Ming Weiwan, pre-received for collection → “I like his sister” ┃ Others:

One sentence introduction: Only sell medicine, not after-sale!

- Description from novelbuddy

When a man finds himself in the presence of absolute power, what will he do? Dying has already happened, but he wasn't given permission and the creature responsible finds his tragedy amusing. Forcing him to continue his life in a new world, he is given an unknown task that must be completed if he ever wishes to rest.

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The smell of blood invaded my nostrils. I watched helplessly as the woman standing over me raised her sword. I was completely drained, I had no mana left, no items, nothing. As the crimson tendrils held me down by my arms and legs, all I could do was wait for my death.

As the sword drew near, I felt the last bit of courage I had disappear. I was going to die. Alone. In this god forsaken place filled with evil. And for what? To protect those ‘friends’? The same people who mocked me, took advantage of, and used me?

Oh, who am I trying to fool? I was here only because of my own greed. Because I wanted to be useful to someone. Because I wanted to that group to need me. To value me. To have a reason to keep me around. How naïve I was, thinking that power would grant those wishes. All it did was help build a wall between me and everyone else.

The sword approached. I saw the purple light reflect off the sword’s blade. After everything I went through, I hadn’t expected my death to be by the hands of another player. I saw her smile, but this time I didn’t think it was beautiful. It was an ugly smile because it was genuine. She was enjoying watching me die. She was enjoying killing me.

The sword struck my chest and pierced my heart. I let out a scream of pain and agony. The pain was so real, all of this was so real. It shouldn’t be, but it was. What should have been a simple game had become my new reality – all of our new reality. A reality filled with magic, war, blood, and death.

My vision darkened as the pain slowly faded. I felt the last of my vitality leave my body. It felt cold. I wondered to myself, when would I stop being? When would my thoughts disappear?

Soon, I saw those words I feared for all this time appear before me. “DEATH”, in the pale blue font the game always used. They remained suspended in the air for several seconds. It was over. After a long time of fighting, grinding, and exploring, it was finally over. I had died. This was the end of my story.

Suddenly, words before me shifted and changed into something different. I took a shallow breath as I heard a faint heartbeat.

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