MTL - The Rise of Dark Pokemons - Chapter 116 Massacre

Anthony Saunders died an orphan, alone and miserable because of a pandemic disease, and was transported to another world as a farmer’s son named Anton. The surprising thing was there was a tattoo of his favorite game Diablo II on his wrists. He was able to enter the game even virtually and all spells and stats of equipped items will reflect in the real world but unfortunately, he can’t take items from the game to the real world. He could use the inventory though!The best part was his Diablo II icon had an internet browser that allowed him to surf the internet from his previous world, but he couldn’t communicate with anyone, just search, read, and watch using the browser, but it saved Anthony from the greatest affliction of all, Boredom!With all the information from his previous world at his fingertips, he should become rich right? Well…

In the third year of the Kaihuang era, as the Great Sui began to unfold between the fall of the Northern Dynasties and the rise of the glorious Tang Dynasty, Emperor Yang Jian created the House of Blades – an intelligence agency for strategies and conspiracies – in preparation to unify the world.

On a snowy night, a convoy of tribute from the Kingdom of Khotan was raided. Not one soul survived the attack. Feng Xiao, Second Commandant of the House of Blades, was ordered by the Emperor to investigate the matter in person.

On the distant border, a storm brewed as major forces gathered from all sides in Liugong Town. The strong rubbed shoulders with the strong; the skilled crossed paths with the skilled.

Here, the ever-successful Second Commandant Feng ran into a wall for the first time – all because of a feeble Taoist priest with ailing health.

Some things would never be known if no fights were ever picked. Only through their skirmishes did Feng Xiao realise that this sick bastard seemed to have way more aliases and personas than he himself ever did.

- Description from Novelupdates

Weary reader, it is an honor that you have chosen this book amidst the heavy, dim library.Regrettably, this book is unwell.Your fingers should be able to feel the raised growths on the surface of its cover,Words written in bygone days are like parasites rooted in the pages, hoping for someone to observe their wriggling,To feel, to decipher, to touch the essence of this ailing story.If you insist on borrowing this book, please make sure to regularly check your own physical condition.