Rebirth Of The Mightiest Disciple (Reboot) - Chapter 607 - . Avengers Assemble

I reincarnated with e*otic game skills, but this is apparently an apocalyptic dark fantasy. I can’t die, so I tried to save the world with e*otic game skills… “Saint! Save us!!” “Saint! Save us!!!” People keep calling me a saint.

Imagination is always pleasant, but reality is cruel. I just wanted a simple life but why am I always getting into trouble?

On Terra, everyone has a 58% chance to “Awaken” as a Traveler—a chosen few who can access mystical portals called Flumes, allowing them to travel to Genovia, a world filled with unimaginable power, chaos, and danger. But not everyone gets to be a hero.Born into a struggling family with nothing but ragged clothes and a bleak future, Aoni Thurston, a total nobody with a humiliating One-Star Potential and G- stats across the board, knows his only chance at survival hinges on unlocking his hidden ability, something which all Traveler’s are gifted “Attributes.”But Aoni’s Attribute, “Progression,” holds a secret—a power to bend the rules of his ruthless reality. Each small victory, every step forward, earns him mysterious Progress Points, enabling him to transform his weaknesses into strength. Surviving the unforgiving snows of his desolate Territory, he faces isolation, despair, and near-death, all while unraveling the potential of his Attribute.In a world where power is everything, can Aoni claw his way from obscurity to greatness, or will the system grind him into dust? His future is uncertain, but one thing is clear—everything in his world can change through his Attribute: Progression.

[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.