The First Magic World War - Chapter 462 - 429, writing less than 10,000 words a day is a crime

In a peaceful, utopian Earth, a young man is born cursed by the will of the heavens. One day, he awakens… and uncovers the hidden world of the High Humans—the most powerful beings on the planet. His superpower? A rare support ability with healing powers… or is it? From that moment on, a healer who devours lives to grow stronger, just like the worst demons, is born. *** This is a story about superpowers in a distant future, where Earth hides unimaginable secrets. It’s also a journey across universes, filled with battles and discoveries. The protagonist isn’t a genius or a trained warrior. He’s just an ordinary man who faced dark times and watched his life be consumed by the abyss. But now, he has a chance to change everything. Step by step, he will learn why to fight—and how to survive.

The figure of the Armada seems to be still riding the wind and waves in the Atlantic Ocean, and the gold of South America still seems to flow in continuously. As Alfonso from the Bourbon family returns to the Royal Palace of Madrid where he was born, the story begins here…

- Description from novelbuddy

I had to take him home and raise him. There was no bathtub or a large basin at home, so I had to put him in the washing machine for the time being.

It was an hour later before I remembered it again, by which he had been washed extremely clean.

- Description from Novelupdates

Annan transmigrated to a new world – the Land of Dense Fog. He had become a rare elite NPC who possessed the player’s system.

However, he had the heart of a player.

I like to stir up matters, and unbridled. But, I’m a kind player. The ally of justice who is favored by this world.

I’m on a main mission. As the righteous player, I’m following my destiny to eradicate you, the evil NPC!

Dear player, I’d recommend you to stop running away. The mission is completed. I’m the righteous NPC now to punish you, the evil players…

—

In the long dark night, the crimson moon hangs high in the sky.

Hoarse whisper patrols the streets. The brass steam engine is emitting blood mist.

Your brain is in ecstasy; your eyes are enchanted.

With cracked skins, it sprouts new flesh.

In the gray mists, shirek cries come from the flesh wall that consumes thousands of corpses…

“Stop crying, our players don’t bite. They just want to play with you.”

The Solitary Schemer, Number 1 Player, Land of Dense Fog’s Savior, Leader of 13 Saints, Friend of 12 Upright Deity, Pioneer King, “The Righteous One,” Gatekeeper of Forth Disaster, Crownless Deity, the great Annan advised kindly.