MTL - Florist Little Boss - Chapter 12

VOLK SMAAAAASSH!Reincarnated with a body like a nuclear bomb, let's turn this magical world into a nuclear wasteland!As someone who loved fighting, Volk Mogger was the most miserable of them all.Born with a small frame, tiny limbs, and underdeveloped muscles, he struggled to grasp anything that was taught to him. He was relegated to merely watching others fight—whether on the internet, on television, or in real life.One day, while riding in his wheelchair, he was abducted and taken to a strange place for a radioactive experiment, which ultimately failed.However, Volk soon discovered that he had been reincarnated in a magical world as a member of an Orc horde, which was hunted by higher life forms despite merely wanting to establish a land where they could honor their traditions and build a home alongside their symbiotic partners, the Elven Witch races.Suddenly, a system screen appeared before Volk, announcing that he had acquired the power to transform into an invincible radioactive titan who yearns to be the strongest of them all.However, this transformation had a time limit, and to extend that limit, he had to win! But win what?Ding!| Beat up the Orcs thief who stole your spoil and a chance to have a wife!| Reward: Extend the radioactive time to 2 minutes.| Failure: Minus 1 minute.| Current radioactive time: 2 minutes. |

Chen Chao dreamt of becoming a powerful immortal cultivator, flying on his sword and vanquishing enemies with daoist magic. His hopes were dashed when he discovered that he had absolutely no talent for immortal cultivation.

Refusing to submit to his fate, Chen Chao joined the ranks of countless other talentless martial artists and embarked on the path of martial cultivation, a path scorned by the immortal cultivators.

In this era of strife where martial cultivators, immortal cultivators, and demonic cultivators wrestled for hegemony, Chen Chao will either rise to the top or fall into eternal damnation.

The protracted ’witch hunting’ had faded into silence with the end of the Seven Years’ War, and the mysteries of the East Coast had begun to conceal themselves, yet gunpowder was on a rapid rise. Mo Qishang, who should have been utterly confounded, stood at the crossroads of destiny in the name of Arthur. He stared in astonishment at the charging knights, the wizards atop the high towers, and the bizarre wilderness. He felt the sharpness of the longsword and the recoil of the firearm, both clear and unfamiliar. At last, he excitedly shook his robe and, with a smile on his face, said— “Do not believe what I say, for to believe is to exist!”