MTL - From Arms Dealer To King of War - Chapter 676 we need safe zone

My name is Yan, and since I was a child, I’ve been able to see some strange things.For example—In elementary school, our new neighbor Aunt Tan had a pair of all-around genius twins, who were like the “precious little geniuses” with halos above their heads. They could recite the English-Chinese dictionary backwards at three, master both Chinese and Western musical instruments by five, and hack into a country’s database by seven…Growing up next to such prodigies, my life was inhumane, tragic, and constantly subjected to comparisons.To escape the comparisons with these “other people’s children,” I specifically applied to a private boarding school for middle school.On my first day, my deskmate was a small, thin girl with bangs, wearing an old uniform, and her voice was as faint as a mosquito’s.Three months later, she woke up from a nap with a “rebirth” halo above her head.She moved effortlessly among the cold academic genius, the wolf-like school bully, the fierce boss, and the gentle childhood friend, leaving me, a lonely onlooker, utterly amazed.By university, I thought I had finally escaped this abnormal world.But as soon as I stepped into my dorm room, my footsteps froze.My roommates each had halos like “ancient times to modern,” “post-apocalyptic superhuman,” “will die if not spending money,” and “ghost king revival.”I clutched my little blanket and applied to the counselor for a room change, but to no avail.Over time, I gradually got used to it. “Handover systems,” “management systems,” “book transmigration,” “infinite worlds,” “three-and-a-half-year-olds,” “interstellar live streams,” “red envelope groups”…The types of halos kept increasing, and I was able to calmly ignore all of it, focusing on my own life.Every morning, I skillfully helped my “ancient to modern” roommate, who was being blacklisted online, dodge campus paparazzi and secure seats for class.At noon, I assisted my tycoon roommate in distributing today’s haul of luxury skincare and designer bags, tasting the city’s top private chef’s custom lunchbox, and exclaiming with emotion, “Darling, can I really accept these?”In the evening, I enjoyed the flowers and plants cultivated by my superhuman roommate on the balcony, tasting a mutated cherry tomato and commenting, “I feel refreshed and purified.”Late at night, when my ghost king roommate quietly climbed back through the window, I peeked out to ask, “You’re back a bit late today, didn’t bring anything back, did you?”My name is Yan, and I am not the protagonist of this world.

He Bai won the lottery, became rich, and reached the pinnacle of life. Then, he inadvertently took a picture of the Film Emperor Di Qiuhe being killed. And after reporting this case to the police, he was reborn in a midst of confusion.

He Bai: I don’t have any horrible relatives to abuse. Why was I reborn?

Di Qiuhe: But I do.

He Bai: I also haven’t been betrayed or harmed by anyone. Why was I reborn?

Di Qiuhe: But I have.

He Bai: I just want to have some money to live freely and eat well. I already achieved that goal, so why was I reborn?

Di Qiuhe: I have money, but don’t live freely or well.

He Bai angrily flips the table: So what’s the use of my rebirth! Just to make me suffer again?!

Di Qiuhe (Holding and Touching He Bai): Be my lover, you’re only responsible for eating “lollipops,” you won’t eat any bitterness.

He Bai: Leave!

I was just your average burnout. Now I’m a kobold in a dungeon where everything wants to eat me—and frankly, I get it. I look delicious.Reincarnated as the weakest possible monster in the worst possible place, I start with nothing but panic, backward knees, and a skill called Civilization Mimicry—which is sealed. Because of course it is.But survival isn't the story.This is the story of what comes after.Of finding meaning in the scraps. Of building law from ashes. Of kindling memory in a place designed to erase.Because even if the world sees kobolds as nothing, I’ve seen what we used to be.And I’m going to bring it back.Firelight by firelight. Burial by burial. One fragile tradition at a time.Because if the world wants kobolds to be nothing?Then I’ll teach it what nothing becomes when it learns to dream.

Bubbles…Soft, fragile, and fleeting. They drift without purpose, bursting at the slightest touch.They aren’t weapons. They aren’t threats. Just harmless playthings, forgotten the moment they vanish.But what if bubbles weren’t so innocent?What if, in a world of Hunters—where magic shatters mountains and fists split seas—someone awakened a Skill based entirely on bubbles?A joke. A death sentence.Goblins would laugh.The weak would pity him. The strong wouldn’t even bother to look twice.But powers can hide secrets. And some truths are buried in plain sight.When a nameless F-Rank awakens the “Bubble Skill,” no one expects him to survive.Let alone rise.However, the indomitable spirit of River Faelan refused to die.Step by step, he climbed to the top—shattering every limit placed on a “mere” Bubble Mage.He proved them all wrong.And he’ll do it again,Even if it means starting from the very bottom… for one more time.