MTL - Freelance Artist - Chapter 118 Whoever wins Kunpeng wins the world?

I can see ghosts. Even the ghosts inside games. But then…”Ah! Not there, over that way! My family heirloom is hidden there.” The ghosts in the game keep revealing hidden pieces to me.

In a world full of caped superheroes, supervillains, and monsters, Aldrich is worthless. 95% of humanity has evolved to develop superpowers, but Aldrich is one of the rare few that has no powers at all.

Ethan Cross was just an ordinary college student in his past life—until he died trying to save a banker playing hero. Now, he finds himself reincarnated in “New World”, a realm plagued by Dread Beasts, where only those who awaken Aethermarks can become Heroes.But there’s a problem.Ethan has awakened as an E-rank Hero, the weakest tier, cursed with only one ability slot—a death sentence for any aspiring warrior. With no powerful clans willing to recruit him and the world already looking down on him, his future seems bleak.Until he discovers his Innate Talent: Sanctum of Beasts.This mysterious power grants him access to a personal dimension, where he can hunt endless waves of Dread Beasts. Unlike the real world, slaying them in this space drops Ability Fragments, which he can combine to gain abilities without slot restrictions. Even better? Time flows differently—he can train for days, yet only an instant passes in reality.Determined to rise from nothing, Ethan embarks on a secret journey to accumulate power. But as he completes missions and unravels the truth about the Black Pits, he realizes there’s something far more sinister lurking beneath the surface.The Hero Association hides dark secrets. Villains roam freely in the shadows. And Dread Beasts may not be the mindless creatures everyone believes them to be.With powerful enemies watching his every move, Ethan must play a dangerous game—remain unnoticed or become the hunter of both beasts and men.But one thing is certain:In this world, strength is everything. And Ethan Cross will carve his own path to the top—no matter the cost.

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.