A Terminal Healer Needs an Obsessive Maniac - Chapter 134

Jianghu was in turmoil, an era of great strife. The leader of Great Qin wielded the Mo Blade, leaving the world battered and bruised. The ageless figures of Jianghu crouched upon the mountains, and with a single turn, they cast the entire world below them. Strong men measured the earth with their feet, and heroes of Jianghu could cleave the heavens with one sword, yet in the blink of an eye, they were drunk in the embrace of beauties. The Taoist carried his sword, the Scholar drunk on wine. Wearing tattered clothes, a beggar grasped a rotten branch and dared to storm the ancestral hall of the Taoist Sect. On the willow-lined causeway, in the long pavilion, a man who had sat withered for thirty years turned and stepped out, holding a peach blossom, with a flick of his wrist, he shattered ten miles of red candles. The era of Great Qin was renamed the Great Yuan Era. The youth with the Wooden Sword left his mountain village behind.

While browsing an online gallery, I was summoned to a tower.I obtained a gallery that allows me to communicate with those who have completed the tower.

“The civilians here are not simple, they are cunning, they are greedy, they are tyrannical.”

“The nobles here are not noble, they are selfish, they are arrogant, they are insidious.”

“I used to be angry about this, but now I pity them. This is a dark world. Since they were born, they have not had the opportunity to choose another life. Now it is up to me to give them.”

“I will bring food and clothing to them, and then they will have morality. I will bring comfort to them, and then they will have faith. I am a traveler from a distant world, and I will bring the fire of civilization to In this dark and wild place, I know I am doing the right thing, eradicating famine, driving out disease, suppressing crime, ending war, and giving anyone who wants a change a second chance.”

“Then, kill all those idiots who are shameless.”

- Description from novelbuddy

The protracted ’witch hunting’ had faded into silence with the end of the Seven Years’ War, and the mysteries of the East Coast had begun to conceal themselves, yet gunpowder was on a rapid rise. Mo Qishang, who should have been utterly confounded, stood at the crossroads of destiny in the name of Arthur. He stared in astonishment at the charging knights, the wizards atop the high towers, and the bizarre wilderness. He felt the sharpness of the longsword and the recoil of the firearm, both clear and unfamiliar. At last, he excitedly shook his robe and, with a smile on his face, said— “Do not believe what I say, for to believe is to exist!”