Clan Cultivation: I Transmigrated With My Smartphone - Chapter 83: The Tyranny of Ancestor Jin

“Yuri, the Pringles! We’re out of Pringles!”“Alright! I’ll trade you 8 boxes of ramen! No, make it 10 boxes!”“Cola is definitely the devil’s creation!”Cider, cola, snacks, ramen.If they don’t have it, I’ll make it myself.

Zhang Feng downloaded a game.The next second.A ferocious monster lunged at him.[Please choose your enhancement]1: Vision +0.12: Growth Constitution (Constitution +1 per hour)3: Fighting Memory————The main world has no magic, only my unique law.

I am Racist.…I mean, my name is Racis T.I was a stand-up comedian. The flop kind. The type who only got laughs when someone else was roasting him.One night, I was doing a gig at a shady, run-down bar—the kind where tattooed bikers drink motor oil for breakfast. I went in with my usual dark humor, but my jokes were getting the same reaction as my dating profile: complete silence.That didn’t sit right with my inner artist, who was already starving to death. So I did what any committed comedian would—I went darker.Turns out, one of my jokes (or all of them?) triggered a guy so hard that he pulled a trigger. Headshot. Instant death.But hey, look at this: A guy got triggered, so he pulled the trigger. That’s wordplay. But who cares? I’m dead anyway.All I wanted was a successful show, people laughing, and maybe a few girls swooning over my wit. I never cared about money. The millions I’d have made would have gone to charity—specifically, 0.001% of it. See? I’m generous like that.Anyway, death is death. My story should’ve ended there.But… if there is an afterlife, I had a simple wish: become a successful comedian, find a loving wife, and have just enough money to afford three meals a day… and maybe a humble little private yacht. Or a jet. But that’s it. Because, like I said, I don’t care about money.Unfortunately, wishes don’t work that way.Because, well—there was an afterlife.And it was absolutely not what I wished for.

The novel follows the story of Arnold, a porter, who accompanies warriors and superhumans inside dangerous dungeons, which are distinguished by their colours. The porters were always mistreated by the modern human civilization and even though their job was riskier than that of warriors and superhumans, their existence was never appreciated nor were they paid well. No one knows why these dungeons started to appear all over the world. The only thing they know was the dangers that would find their way into the world if they didn’t kill the monsters. But only a selected few cared about the calamity because for the rest it was all about earning money and gaining power. But nothing in this new world is constant and everything keeps changing, and this time the change would find its way towards an ordinary Porter. After stealing a scroll from the dungeon, he ran off to his home. The scroll gave him powers no one could’ve imagined to gain. But he wasn’t alone. 9 other humans had been granted similar powers... powers of the Gods! What would Arnold do with his newfound powers? Will he kill the other 8 Paladins and rule over the world which had oppressed him for years? Or will he rise against the Gods and make them repent for their crimes? Can the strength lent by the Gods be sufficient to deal with them once and for all? Would he be able to defeat his creator? Or will he join the Gods instead? Too many questions, too little time. The decisions he would make could be the end of humanity Or would an ordinary Porter, become he world’s only hope? Follow me on the journey to the power of this ordinary Porter as he becomes the Savior or the Devil.