MTL - Weird Wizarding World - Chapter 397 Tier 2 knight!

Yang Ji transmigrated to a world of immortals, where he could see various information displays invisible to others.He looked at a chunk of ore, “Mystic Iron Ore”.He looked at a dead frog, “Died of Gu Insect, dead for fifty breaths”.He looked at the sky, “The sky is overcast, and a heavy rain will pour down in an hour”.He looked at humans, “Thinking”, “I want to seize your body”, “Angry”, “Sneaky”.When he looked at himself, a proficiency panel appeared.With the attributes he could see, Yang Ji sought good fortune and avoided disaster. Step by step, he walked the path to the supreme immortal way.

Global changes, calamities come, and monsters plunder.

In order to resist monsters, the global data will be digitized, and everyone will get a combat occupation or auxiliary occupation through awakening and transfer at the age of eighteen, and they will become stronger by killing monsters.

Lu Yan awakened the weakest fighting professional undead mage at the beginning, but obtained the professional support system, and the second awakening concealed the professional undead monarch.

“The necromancer is crispy, and it’s gone when touched.”

“This guy is really unlucky. Although he awakens to a combat profession, he is the weakest. He can also summon a few skeleton soldiers, which is useless.”

“And the number of necromancers is very small, basically there is no experience and resources to inherit, and the future is worrying.”

“Hahaha, I have awakened the Paladins, your Almighty King is here.”

Soon after, Lu Yan was wearing undead ghost armor, holding a ghost scythe, with an army of 100,000 undead behind him, and a scythe split the epic monster in half.

You said that the necromancer is weak, what does it have to do with my undead monarch?

- Description from novelbuddy

Vincent van Gogh, the painter who refused to be an accessory Of power and painted with his soul at the tip of a brush, was not understood by anyone and had to die like a madman, and he woke up in 21st century Korea.

Like a wheat field melted with gold, like a sunflower that swallowed the sun, a dazzling painter once again takes the brush.

“Please... give me a baby.”His eyes cut like sharp blades: “Even if it's with your husband's own brother?”I nod, trembling.To save my dying husband, I would cross any line.What started as a deal spun out of control in the darkness.“Look at me,” he grips my chin. “What are you craving?”I shake my head, biting my lip as tears fall.“You want this...” his lips brush mine, “you want me.”