Holy Necromancer: Rebirth of the Strongest Mage - Chapter 57 Chapter, 57: Recommendation

[Warning: Mature Content]Chuck was a 20-year-old professional body pillow reviewer who spent his days testing anime waifu pillows for online stores. His life was pathetic, lonely, and consisted mainly of rating the softness of fictional girlfriends.Then truck-kun struck.One evening while walking home from another humiliating day of pillow fondling, Chuck got obliterated by a speeding delivery truck. Instead of meeting his maker, he woke up as a newborn in a parallel world... a very different one from the one he knew. A second chance awaited, and he looks to make good use of it.However, he runs into the impossible; Chuck finds himself thrust into a society of proud lioness princesses, fierce wolf ladies, and noble panther heiresses, daughters of warlords.In hindsight, all those years of pathetic pillow fondling had been preparing him for this moment—a world where his wildest harem dreams weren't just possible, they were inevitable.

An Individual from Earth finds themselves in the Shinobi World, equipped with a Scientific System. From that moment, he delved into scientific research far ahead of its time.

The year was 2026, and the world wasn't what it used to be. Ever since the Abyss Gates cracked open three years ago, spilling monsters and dungeons across the planet, life had turned into a chaotic mess. Cities were half-ruined, half-rebuilt, and people clung to whatever normalcy they could find. Hunters—those brave or crazy enough to fight the monsters—became the new heroes. Everyone else? Well, they just tried to survive.Fin wasn't a Hunter. He wasn't a hero either.He was just… Fin. A lanky 19-year-old with messy brown hair, a chipped front tooth from a dumb skateboard accident, and a power that everyone called useless. Absorption. Sounds cool, right? Like he could suck up energy or steal someone's strength. Nope. All it did was let him “feel” things he touched a little more than normal. He could tell you the exact texture of a brick wall or how warm a coffee mug was—big whoop. No fireballs, no super strength, no flashy moves. Just a glorified touchy-feely trick.“Fin, you gonna eat that sandwich or just stare at it like it's gonna confess its life story?” Meg's voice snapped him out of his thoughts.He blinked and looked across the rickety table at his best friend. Meg was short, loud, and had a wild mop of dyed purple hair that she swore made her look “intimidating.” It didn't.

[Longevity + Discipleship + No Female Lead + Lighthearted Humor with No Tragic Moments]When his master picks food, he spins the table there;When his master chants spells, he chats without a care;When his master takes rest, he sings a lively song;When his master lies late, he bangs the pot along;His master lives on long, but his life is rather short;His master lays him down on the hillside, as a sort;His master lifts a cup, but he won’t take a drink;His master shares a tale, but he won’t stop to think;His master holds a feast, but he leaves the table wide;His master calls his soul, but he’s nowhere to abide.Spring returns to the hills, with blooms so bright and fair,Yet master and disciple are parted, one in heaven, one elsewhere.