WHAT! I Have To Kill Heaven's Son To Live! - Chapter 42: This Generation Will Be… Interesting

A young man sat on a chair and looked out at the ocean. With one wisp of Spirit Qi, he could point anywhere on this vast and expansive world, pointing at any place that didn’t look right.

Someone once became the last one to wield a knife that could decapitate huge dragons and bathed in dragons’ blood. Someone once loved treating others to chicken soup, so he kept nine phoenixes in his backyard.

Someone once sat lazily on the top of mountains as his words flooded river banks, and his qi could hold a million soldiers back. Someone once moved mountains and shifted hills with just one brush, his paintings so captivating it could enchant immortals and deities.

That year, the warmth of spring made the flowers bloom. They were merely an ordinary butcher, a bookworm, a chicken farmer and a poor artist. This is the story of how a Low Level Martial World Continent was transformed into the Ultimate Fantasy Universe.

- Description from Qidian

Bought it right away.

“If someone has to become the strongest, why can't it be me?”

An unfortunate young man, brought to another world by a meteor, voices his unwillingness with a defiant roar.

I just want to create a fantastical world that doesn't seem too unreal.

Pre-reading Reminder 1: If you think human nature can simply be divided into good or bad, proceed with caution.

Pre-reading Reminder 2: If you believe a sect is just a crowd of people flattering the protagonist, proceed with caution.

Pre-reading Reminder 3: If you think the whole world is a stage for the protagonist to show off, and all people are merely stepping stones for the protagonist, proceed with caution.

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There is an ugly beast that violates women in prison.

A treacherous beast that is feared and called a “Butcher”.

That’s me.

I was once a human but now I can’t even remember my own name.

I can’t speak, and I don’t understand a word they say.

It is in this deep loneliness that I am pouring my essence into the women everyday.

I pour my burning rage into them.

Over and over again, until they conceive.

From morning till night. Until the women’s souls withered.

To show them that I’m an excellent stallion and an obedient domestic animal.

But my soul has not perished yet.

I will break free from this prison soon. And when I do, it will be your last.

Every human who betrayed me, every demon who altered me, I will trample down like an ant.

And it won’t stop until I’m satisfied.

The dawn of the beast is near.