The scarlet flower of corruption blooms in the borderland, and the most holy and pure White Witch becomes the new king of corruption. The blue blood that has been passed down since ancient times flows under the dark tide, and the great and brilliant Duke intends to subvert the music of order. The unknown secret history disappears into nothingness, and the wizard who travels through time and space longs to see through the delirium of the world. As for me? I don't care. I will set up four pillars, guide four philosophers, and lead an absurd and ridiculous drama of salvation. Then, it’s time for me to go to the table and enjoy it! ps: This book does not follow the traditional wizard writing routine. There are no chips, no wizard academy, and no knights before wizards. The wizard supernatural system in this book is in its primitive and ignorant stage. There is no clear and rigid level of power, and it is generally fuzzily classified according to knowledge. So you don't see first-level wizards, second-level wizards,...

I am the only one in the world who kills, and no one in the world kills me.

This is a crazy man, his crazy journey, endless journey, countless myths unfolding one by one, bizarre, no one knows the end of time and space, you don’t know, I don’t know, this is a crazy man for life, A journey for knowledge, to explore eternity.

Bai Mo, you evil bastard!

“Only the weakling will care about race and lineage, that’s because they need to see something that is similar to themselves to feel safe. And they need to use another life to continue their dreams; But the sun doesn’t need another sun, and the eternal one doesn’t need another to realize his own dreams.”

A story of a lone seeker constantly searching for a way forward.

A sentient demonic sword drifts from master to master, offering power at a price. Some wielders rise, others fall—but all leave their mark on the blade. It grows stronger with each bond, shaping and shattering destinies across a blood-soaked world. This is not a story of good or evil—only the will of the sword.

[Infinite loop. Surviving in the cracks. Neither a saint nor invincible. Everyone's IQ is online. A slow-burn evolution.]

Ning Mu, who once suspected he was mentally ill, eventually realized the terrifying truth—the world was trapped in an endless reset. As the original course of events began to unravel, something far more sinister emerged: ghosts were real.

And those who devoured these ghosts… awakened extraordinary powers.

Now, everyone was hunting—fighting and feeding on ghosts to grow stronger.

After surviving countless bizarre and brutal incidents, Ning Mu faced the one who now stood above all, almost godlike.

“Go in peace. Don’t rewind time again,” Ning Mu said quietly.

The “god” remained silent—and rewound time anyway.

“Ning Mu, just give up.”

“Yeah! How can we fight against a god?”

Ning Mu only shook his head.

“Who’s to say what it really is—a god, a ghost, or just a human?”

The treacherous streets of Gotham, a palace buried deep beneath the sea, an eerie, forgotten castle…

When Luo Xiu stepped into this infinite world of madness and desire, the gears of fate behind him began to turn.

Twisted cravings. Hypocritical masks. Shattered souls in need of repair.

The deeper Luo Xiu delved, the more he gained—and the more the sickness within him began to fade.

And at that moment, it felt as if Luo Xiu had finally become… the real Luo Xiu.

An exciting journey through endless worlds?

No.

This is the Devil’s Infinite Game.

“By pushing light into darkness, I obtained incredible power. By sucking the essence of life, I became an immortal monster.”

He was dressed in a sacred cloak. Singing commands to the horde of demons.

“Yes, even if this might be my fall, I’d die either way!”

He was merely a child who became a s*ave. Powerless and abandoned. Never once did he hesitate to do anything to overturn his doomed fate.

After all, a God is above all moral values.

This is the story of a man who has succeeded in evolving his mortal body and soul into that of a God.

"When the four great continents collapse and the heavens fall, I shall ascend to the Heavenly Realm of Mount Ling and take command of the Thunderous Voice."

Ji Yuannian stood in silence upon a lotus seat of ten thousand leaves, clad in pristine white Buddhist robes. His jet-black hair cascaded like a waterfall, eyes cold and distant as he gazed toward the far western horizon, where the vast and mist-veiled Mount Sumeru loomed.

...

Wherever paths cross, there are only immortals or cultivators—seated in stillness, preaching the Yellow Court Scripture.

And so, the story begins...

In Beiju Luzhou.