The Founder of Diabolism - Chapter 106: Hatred (Part Nine)

Wu Chen crossed the new world, but was trapped on July 7th, 2020, and continued to reincarnate!

He has been indulgent, doing evil, and desperately violently committing suicide hundreds of times in different ways, but every new day, everything will come back. He also has hundreds of languages and can communicate with 99.9% of the world.

He is proficient in all mainstream instruments, and he is a master of beauty. He has studied fighting, car skills, shooting, and cooking in his repeated time. Art, dance, performance…

So he reincarnation for a thousand years, a new day, the sun rises as usual. – Time is: July 8, 2020.

- Description from wkkshu translation

He returned with a vigorous presence, equipped with a Heaven-reaching Innate Ability. He could heal, tell fortunes, refine medicines, set formations, and refine talismans… “There’s nothing in this world that I can’t do!” — Shen Feng.

The issue that originally preoccupied Tang Xian’s thoughts was whether, amidst these world-destroying bosses, he should be a hero for just a second or continue to pretend to be a boss. Later, he realized that, in the midst of pretense, he had actually become genuine...

The year was 2026, and the world wasn't what it used to be. Ever since the Abyss Gates cracked open three years ago, spilling monsters and dungeons across the planet, life had turned into a chaotic mess. Cities were half-ruined, half-rebuilt, and people clung to whatever normalcy they could find. Hunters—those brave or crazy enough to fight the monsters—became the new heroes. Everyone else? Well, they just tried to survive.Fin wasn't a Hunter. He wasn't a hero either.He was just… Fin. A lanky 19-year-old with messy brown hair, a chipped front tooth from a dumb skateboard accident, and a power that everyone called useless. Absorption. Sounds cool, right? Like he could suck up energy or steal someone's strength. Nope. All it did was let him “feel” things he touched a little more than normal. He could tell you the exact texture of a brick wall or how warm a coffee mug was—big whoop. No fireballs, no super strength, no flashy moves. Just a glorified touchy-feely trick.“Fin, you gonna eat that sandwich or just stare at it like it's gonna confess its life story?” Meg's voice snapped him out of his thoughts.He blinked and looked across the rickety table at his best friend. Meg was short, loud, and had a wild mop of dyed purple hair that she swore made her look “intimidating.” It didn't.