God-level Streamer - Chapter 42 - Verbal Combat_1

The ordinary world is not ordinary, ordinary people are not ordinary, and safe places are not safe.

This is a story of a passer-by male protagonist who is entangled by various girls with strange hobbies or even non-human beings while surviving in the cracks and opening a harem.

- Description from novelbuddy

❗[Current Writing Contest-WebNovel Spirity Awards 2025 Fantas]❗Flain grew up in a futuristic world. When he was born his parents didn't want him because he didn't live up to their expectations and so he ended up very badly.Flain was employed as a slave. He was forced to mine radioactive iron deep in the mines. It was drilled into his head that he existed only to obey orders.Young Flain was obedient. He doubted some of it but knew nothing else. For years, he never saw a single ray of light; light was only spoken of among the others as a legend.The routine was the same: in the morning, he would take a nutrient tablet and water. Then he would mine all day, sleep eight hours, and repeat.Flain worked like this from childhood until he was ten years old. He even found a friend, but that friend died of radiation poisoning right in front of Flain. Flain couldn't stop mining. He kept mining with tears streaming down his face.Before bed, Flain cried. “I will become the strongest. I will kill you all, and you will become my slaves.”Flain stopped crying, stared blankly at the rocky ceiling, then looked ahead. A manic grin appeared on his face, one that would often adorn it from that moment on.At the age of ten, Flain was assigned to a military camp due to his endurance in the mines and his survival against radiation.In the camp, Flain was trained. The regime was much looser; he even had an hour of free time each day. However, Flain didn't make any more friends. Even during his free time, he trained with a smile. He would achieve his goal at any cost, even if it meant training himself to death.Experiments were conducted on Flain. He lost his hair, two long gray arms grew on his back, and a third red eye appeared. Flain became a mutant.Flain was then sent to war. He fought with sharp katabas. He performed quite well in the war, earning himself command of ten soldiers and becoming a small commander.But one day, everything changed.Flain then dies, is swallowed by darkness, and Flain refuses to die, thus appearing as a skeleton in a fantasy world.

In the late years of the Daqian era, tyrants roamed freely, war erupted endlessly, and the people could not sustain their lives.After transmigration, Chen Jie finds himself as a drunken gambler with a pair of unfortunate sisters at home.The elder one, Su Yunjin, is his wife, and he also has a five-year-old sister-in-law, Su Yunrui.Their family is so poor they can barely make ends meet.Then suddenly, his beautiful wife comes smiling, bringing him a bowl of hot porridge.“Husband, I was wrong yesterday. Please have some porridge while it's hot.”Seeing the bruises on his wife's face, Chen Jie feels something is amiss.Ding~[Daily Information has been updated][1. Yesterday, you gambled away the last three acres of good land, beat Su Yunjin while drunk, and planned to sell the five-year-old Su Yunrui, to recover your losses.][2. The Su sisters rely on each other. Su Yunrui is Su Yunjin's only hope.][3. Su Yunjin, having lost hope, traded her mother's hairpin three days ago for a pack of arsenic.]...Arsenic!Staring at the hot porridge brought to his lips, Chen Jie looks up at his wife, seeing the faint bruise on her face and her eyes shifting away, avoiding his gaze.“Honey!”“Yes?”“You didn't really drugged me, did you?”

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.