The Daily Life of the Demon King - Chapter 317: Battle Without Pause"

I have calculated for people before I was born, and I have all five yin, and I am born with fierce ghosts. A knowledgeable gentleman said that I will not live to be seven years old. After death, I will cultivate blood-clothed little ghosts to harm people.

In order to save me, my grandmother married me a child-in-law, so that I had an Ann birthday, although I later discovered that the daughter-in-law and sister-in-law are not human…

I have been lingering and panting since I was a child, and I have been accustomed to accepting it, but my grandmother was killed.

For this reason, regardless of karma, I inherited my grandmother’s job of raising ghosts and vowed to send everyone who killed her to hell.

- Description from MTL

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.

The poor Commandery Princess is down and out. Her father died when she was young, and her mother passed away not long ago. Her grandfather, the only one she can rely on, is now at death’s door from his illness. Faced with the merciless uncle, the greedy aunts, as well as cousins competing to present the model of the worst relatives, the Commandery Princess could do nothing but feel depressed in heart.

Listen here, because I've seen it with my very own eyes.William Oh was born on the hundredth floor of The Tower, to the greatest Climbers of the ancient world, steeped in the Tower's lethal miasma from the moment he drew breath, giving him strange and unnatural powers.They say he is an immortal being who circles the dreams of mortal men, resurfacing wherever the need is greatest. Those who disparage him will fall into despair, but if you're a Climber in a tight scrape, look to the sky and say a little prayer.Maybe he will appear?Odds are probably better if you pay for my drink.- Rumor overheard on a 1st Floor Tavern. Originator did not pay his tab.