Greetings, Ninth Uncle - Chapter 143: Sincerity (IV)

He was not a human since no human is aware of himself even before his birth.

He has no blood and no heart, but emotions?

He does have feelings, but can he express them?

Why was he called a Devil’s Spawn at his birth?

Why did they cut away his arms and a leg?

Why did no one ever visit him for years?

And why does this emptiness... feels so... just so familiar?

Why does the Void feel so... full?

Who is he? Or rather... What is he?

After crossing over into the game world he had played before, Su Nan finds himself as a nobleman who has lost his title. At this time, the continent is still a barren wasteland of elements; powerful wizards abandoned this world a thousand years ago to explore the multiverse, becoming little more than elusive legends.Only Su Nan knows that, a thousand years later, the elements will revive, the wizards will return, and the continent is about to enter a prosperous era of magic.So, his task is quite simple: work hard to cultivate and become a wizard, surviving until the age of wizards arrives!“Resource-poor?”“There’s nothing for it; I’ll just have to synthesize everything myself.”Su Nan opens the synthesis cube. This is the story of a traveler with a player panel and a synthesis cube, leveraging a slight advantage of foresight to make a name for himself in a foreign world.

In a world of countless enemies, the right talent is all it takes to thrive. Freddy Stern, a twenty-one-year-old cashier, has lived a plain, albeit harsh life. Having been orphaned—twice—he’s spent the last ten years working and staying out of trouble. His only aspiration is to save enough money to become an archhuman. His dream gets the jump on him when he barely survives a near-death encounter and finds himself with 1% Lifesteal, a bizarre talent with numerous contradictions and just as many uses. With every dead enemy, he becomes a bit stronger, a little wiser, and a lot more ruthless. And no matter how much damage he takes, he can always put himself back together. Physically, at least. But on his path to power, after having to look at the rotting guts of archhuman society again and again, can his talent keep his mind and soul as pristine as his body? Or will that part of him simply remain broken?

The plague of insects descended overnight. As an ordinary person without invincible powers and extraordinary exercises, facing blood and death, what should we do at the critical moment of life and death?

(I am a reasonable party, but the novel needs appropriate YY, please do not excessively investigate the rationality of the background in a razor-sharp way.)

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