The First Cultivator - Changing Existence - Chapter 781: Pointless Resistance -

The female soldier king traverses into a useless little girl, confronting the strongest ghost lord who is both salty and sweet.She is the first legendary female soldier king in history, who traversed and was actually sold by a scumbag!!Unable to cultivate, abandoned, and cursed for a hundred lives, without a good ending?She holds a book defying fate, enslaving the heavens, making the earth her servant. Whoever splashes dirty water on her, she boils it and splashes it back.Punching scumbags, kicking white lotuses, with the universe in her left hand and the world in her right, she counterattacks in one fell swoop, changing the winds and clouds.Behind her, a lazy voice calls out.“Stop right there. I've confirmed through the eyes, you are the woman this lord wants to flirt with.”

Ashley Gusman, a determined young Filipina, was driven by her sole ambition to provide a better life for her family. She was willing to go to great lengths to achieve this goal, even taking on the role of a surrogate mother for a Billionaire Heir.***~***CEO Tanaga Jones, who needed an heir for his empire, was adamant about not wanting a wife. Ultimately, he contracted with a woman to bear him a child.

One day every human on the world suddenly receives a mail claiming to enact the World Salvation Project. Half in doubt Kurosaki Shion, a diligent university student and loner, follows the mail’s instructions, becoming one of a million Demon Kings governing his very own Domain in the new world.

*** This is a post-apocalyptic story containing many fantasy elements. It is a somewhat dark tale following Shion as he grows while aiming for the unification of the all too sudden new world. It has many game-elements bolstered by strategical thinking while at the same time providing funny moments and romantic encounters.

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.