The Urban Medical Martial Immortal - Chapter 811 - 807: The Curse That Lasts Generations

At nineteen, Dexter was already one of the world’s most celebrated authors. His books topped charts. Critics praised his genius. Fans devoured every word. But behind the acclaim was a lonely boy—raised without parents, love, or real friends—just stories.He published his first novel at fourteen. By seventeen, he was a literary star. But the higher he rose, the hollower it felt.Then came the writer’s block. The headaches. The blackout. And the transmigration.Dexter awoke in the body of Daylan, a disgraced young man in a crumbling, medieval world laced with steampunk tech, divine law, and political unrest. Daylan had already failed two of the three sacred Trials—rites that determine one’s magical potential. He was drowning in debt, entangled in plots to overthrow a corrupt Divine Church, and branded a lost cause.With no way back, Dexter took the final Trial—the most brutal of them all—and began a path that would earn him the whispered title: Soldier, Poet, King.But as his powers grew, one question haunted him: Did he truly die? And if so, who—or what—chose to bring him back?

I was stuck in a dungeon explosion while working so hard that I actually died.

But when I opened my eyes, I was back to the time of 3 years ago!

Well, I will live differently in this life. Salary is goodbye to s*ave life. I quit immediately and set up a cafe in the store my grandmother left behind.

There are no customers because she is right in front of a dungeon, but it doesn’t matter. All I want is to work two days and play five days. But.

Also, the attractive regular customer who keeps bothering me is somehow unusual.

It doesn’t feel good. Isn’t it like the story of the main character of the RPG, who was just trying to run an errand, and ends up fighting the devil after getting caught up in something annoying?

Yes, I will not. I can not. I have no intention of playing more than the role of a novice innkeeper.”

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…

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Isabella was supposed to be sipping champagne at a luxury spa, not waking up in the middle of a forest. Worse, a SYSTEM had attached itself to her like some clingy ex, spouting nonsense about survival, quests, and—oh, hell no—manual labor.“System, I was NOT built for the wilderness! My ideal ‘roughing it’ experience involves a five-star hotel with bad WiFi!”Now, instead of lounging in silk robes, she’s being ordered to farm? To hunt?“A farming quest? You want me—a city girl—to grow food? System, I once killed a cactus by overwatering it. This is NOT my calling!”And don’t even get her started on the hygiene situation.“You want me to bathe in a cold river? Darling, I require warm water, scented oils, and an ambience! What do I look like—some barbarian?!”Unfortunately, the locals—big, muscular beastmen—don’t seem to understand the concept of self-care. The women? Neglecting their skin like it’s a crime to be radiant. The men? Walking hygiene disasters.“Ladies, if your man can smell you before he sees you, we have a problem.”“You see this? This is lotion. It exists so you don’t look like a dried-up leaf. Use it.”“A beard should be majestic, not tragic. Let me fix it.”And the beastmen? They don’t just stare at her like she’s an oddity. No, they hover. They smirk. They lean in too close, fangs flashing with amusement.“Why do you keep looking at me like that?” she huffed, crossing her arms.The panther grinned, his tail flicking. “Because you’re fascinating when you’re annoyed.”No, absolutely not. She was not here for this nonsense.“If you have time to stare, you have time to moisturize.”She didn’t ask to be here. She didn’t ask to be their savior. But if she has to suffer through this world, she’s making everyone around her suffer less—through skincare, style, and some serious attitude.“If I hear one more ‘We don’t season our food here,’ I’m launching a war.”“If you have time to gossip, you have time to do squats.”“You want to impress a woman? Start with not smelling like the battlefield.”Survival isn’t just about fighting monsters; it’s about looking good while doing it. So what if the System keeps throwing impossible quests her way?“What do you mean ‘you can’t skip quests’?! Since when?! Where is the skip button?! I demand a skip button!”But somewhere between dodging ridiculous quests and fixing these people’s tragic grooming habits, Isabella found herself in situations. Uncomfortable, heart-racing situations.Like being trapped against a tree by the red python, his red eyes half-lidded as he murmured, “You talk too much, little star. Should I silence you?”Like waking up with the lion lord’s fur-lined cloak draped over her shoulders, his deep voice gruff, “You shiver in your sleep. I’ll fix that.”Like the phoenix watching her every move, his burning gaze searing into her skin as he mused,“You cause chaos wherever you go, but I find that I don’t mind.”Oh, hell. No. She was not about to fall for four beastmen. She was too pretty for this much stress.“If you insult me again, I’ll make sure your soul needs a beauty upgrade.”“I refuse to be disrespected by anyone who dresses like an unwashed tree branch.”And yet, when a rival tribe came to challenge her, when danger lurked too close, those same beastmen stood beside her—smirking, taunting, fighting for her.“A beastman growled at me today. I growled back. He ran. I am the alpha now.”Isabella isn’t just surviving. She’s thriving. And this world better keep up.