Apocalypse Of All Races - Chapter 3721 - 749: Everything You have (subscribe)2

Kivas Chariot is struck by the sun—an event that corrupts her soul beyond repair.In the blink of an eye, she's transported into the midst of a cosmic ritual, performed by three eldritch beings beyond comprehension.Overwhelmed by the sheer magnitude of their presence, her fractured soul erupts in a desperate tantrum, shattering the terrifying rite.Yet beneath their monstrous forms, one of the entities reaches out to her gently—soul to soul—and asks a simple, warm, and comprehensible question.“What is it you truly desire?”Tears welling, Kivas whispers from the depths of her being.“I want to be loved!”The entity grants her wish.But not directly.Now, somehow awakened in a strange new world, Kivas discovers something bizarre—there are stats, HP, MP... even classes and skills.In a world where time matter less and power are more rampant, Kivas attempts to strive and live her brand new life.

The mid-level boss of my company’s AAA-game.

Skyscraper's rooftop.Fang Cheng is sweating heavily, relentlessly training.1000 airborne clapping push-ups.1000 two-finger push-ups.1000 one-arm pull-ups.1000 one-arm handstand push-ups.1000 single-leg squats.Plus, holding a dragon flag and a Baki plank for one hour.Looking in the mirror, Fang Cheng shows a satisfied expression.“All six skills are maxed out, I can finally synthesize the mythic talent, Asura's body.”Neon-lit chaotic dark city, countless crimson eyes lurking around.Conglomerates, serial killers, cultists, gene-modified beings, rebel groups…Fang Cheng, with his panel, intrudes into this seemingly ordinary mysterious world.Gaining experience and cultivating through push-ups.Fitness, boxing, sanda, parkour, meditation, breathing, qigong…Each seemingly ordinary skill achieves unimaginable heights.Pushing human limits ever higher, crushing every so-called “monster.”Until — becoming the god of the new world!

Rakna was not normal. No, unmistakably not.

Whether it was his appearance, his personality, his abilities, his identity, nothing about him had ever been banal. Was it his choice?

No. He was merely but a tormented soul doing its utmost to live the life it had learned to never enjoy.

Would being picked by a glorified universal abductor calling itself a system bring something out of him?

Would he finally learn to breathe in the pool of blood that suffocated him? The Harvester does not sow, he only collects.

All he has ever known to feel was loss and the only thing he can do is take.

He will devour their hearts and drink their blood if it is what it takes.