I Really Didn't Mean To Be The Saviour Of The World - Chapter 1182 - 696 Bad News_2

Have you ever thought about how your life would turn out at the age of 18?Well before I could even say that I was an adult to even say I was going to conquer it.The world had seemed to already be determined of what mine and the rest of humanity would be when the first Leviathans was made public to our world.

I just want to be different, no one can guess what I want to do, the more mysterious the more powerful.

- Description from novelbuddy

“Dane?” “Yeah, the bastard whose head I smashed with a fire extinguisher.” Grayson Miller, whose life goal is to meet his destined partner just like his Papa and Daddy who gave birth to him. However, even after dating countless people, he hasn’t found the right one. Desperate, he even sought out a renowned shaman, who told him that his destined partner was someone connected to ‘fire’ and has ‘big breasts’. Doubtful, but still pondering how to make the connection, he attends a pheromone party where a sudden fire breaks out. While toying with the omegas and spreading his pheromones left and right, he suddenly lost consciousness after having his pheromones controlled by a certain Extreme Omega. After waking up, Grayson realize that his destined partner might be working at the fire station, and with his father’s help, he gets a job there through connections. However, from the very first day, he gets into a physical fight with the firefighters who were keeping him in check, and among them, he also gets particularly entangled with that Dane Striker bastard…….

I had finally done it—achieved the ultimate Paladin build. Maxed stats, impenetrable armor, and so many resistances that death itself had given up on me. I was an unkillable tank, an indomitable force. Nothing could stop me.And then my PC exploded.I died.Irony, thou art a cruel mistress.But instead of the afterlife, I woke up as my Paladin character… in the wrong freaking genre. Instead of castles and dungeons, there were people flying around on swords, shooting qi beams like fantasy laser guns.“This is definitely the wrong genre,” I muttered, watching a pompous young master sneer at me.“Kowtow, kiss my foot, and beg for forgiveness!” he declared.I looked at my imaginary maxed-out health bar, then at his flimsy silk robes.Oh, this was going to be fun.