No saints, no heroines, ruthless and ruthless, with a wicked heart that smokes smoke, he sweeps across the wilderness. Zuo Dao, carrying a system, travels through time and space as a snake, arriving in this world where the strong prey on the weak. To survive, he is accompanied only by endless loneliness and life and death. His life motto is to enjoy comfort for a while, to survive for a day.

The young Taoist priest was only 28 years old, and his youth was aroused by troubles.

Every day I suffer from aging, sickness and death, and I see love, hate, anger, ignorance and resentment.

I don't want my face to wither and fade, I don't want my skin to become covered with spots.

I don’t want my limbs to wither, my internal organs to be empty and my bones to be smelly.

The young Taoist priest was only 28 years old, and his only wish was to live forever.

………………

Using self-cultivation as medicine and nourishing the body as bait, this is the story of an ordinary person overcoming tribulations and seeking immortality.

(No heroine, no system, not a fast-paced, cool story, growth-oriented)

Travel through a strange world where the weird cannot be killed, and only the weird can fight against the weird! ?

Ji Yue suddenly discovered that he could travel back and forth between the strange world and the world of immortal cultivation!

Immortal Cultivator: How is this possible? What kind of magic is this!?

Ghost Rider: What ghost are you riding?!

[Ruthless, no female lead, slow pace, detailed setting]

The protagonist possesses a superior spiritual root and is not a useless character; he will not use obvious cheat codes.

Born into poverty and destitute, Zhou Xuan learned to scheme, to be ruthless, to curry favor, and to survive in this quagmire of a world.

But success is one part effort and nine parts luck. Zhou Xuan was so lucky to encounter a celestial master who would take him as a disciple that he couldn't care less about anything else.

Even though this immortal master was shrouded in black smoke and clearly came from a legitimate sect, Zhou Xuan was like a moth drawn to a flame, disregarding everything.

The motto of the Extreme Yin Old Demon:

Going all in is a form of wisdom.

The world must be at fault, so why should I be at fault?

Oh no! A great terror is about to be unleashed! Quickly protect all the disciples in front of you!

Young man, put aside your ambitions!

[Profits first + decisive killing + dark side + no female protagonist] [Normal men have women but no female protagonist]

Human life is like grass, it devours the source and benefits itself.

What? Fairy has a supreme physique? That's my nourishment.

What? A witch has the ability to cultivate both strength and power? That's my furnace.

What? The Holy Son has unparalleled blood? That's my blood supply.

Lu Jiu has been a human for three lifetimes. In his last life, he created the Blood Path and was surrounded and killed while trying to seize the treasure. His remaining soul travels through this world, determined to get the blood in his hands and the Dao in his heart to seize the supreme Dao fruit.

The first year of cultivating immortals.

Chen Huangpi had a copper-skin and iron-boned body, and was invulnerable to water and fire. Black smoke billowed with every move he made.

The master said that was spiritual energy.

The second year of cultivating immortals.

Chen Huangpi felt extremely itchy, and hundreds of evil eyes broke free from his flesh and blood, emitting malice unscrupulously.

The master said that this was called supernatural power.

After a hundred years of cultivating immortals, Chen Huangpi's eighteen feet were rooted in the dark earth, and his nine heads reached the sky. When he opened his bloody mouth, he could hear obscure and evil sounds.

He called himself the Taoist Master Huangpi.

Chen Huangpi looked up and saw his master sitting in the ninth heaven, his whole body was dark blue, and countless gods, immortals and Buddhas were struggling and wailing in his shadow.

"Master, are we really cultivating immortals?"

In the misty sea fog, on the deck of the ghost ship, Hern Iheroa gazed into the distance, using a brass telescope inlaid with inhuman eyeballs, at a geometrically indefinable outline. He mechanically tore at the rotting fish flesh in his hands, stuffing it into the relatively neat slit in front of his skull, known as the "mouth." At that moment, only two questions occupied Hern's mind. First, when would he find a doctor? Second, what about the remaining 1,278 mouths on his body after he had eaten his fill—"So, doctor, is there... any hope for us?"

When Jiang Ye woke up, the world had changed.

5% of the global population had become Players.

Paranormal events became game instances.

Clear the anomalies, grow stronger. Simple rules, deadly stakes.

Now, staring at the tearful girl begging him for help, Jiang Ye glanced at his backpack:

【Serrated Jaw】

【Catcher’s Mitt】

【Tattered Burial Shroud】

【Bloodletting File】

…

Behind the bone-white mask stretched across his face, Jiang Ye gave a shy little smile.

Then he made his choice: hang the girl on a tree.

After all, if the anomaly isn’t cleared, no one’s getting out — may as well draw the boss early.

The girl: “???”

As an Aberrant Player, Jiang Ye is under constant pressure:

Clear dungeons by day, dodge betrayal by night — especially from other players trying to “clear” him.

[Original Abyss Demon] + [No System for the Protagonist] + [Grand World View] + [Endless Plane Sea] + [No Female Protagonist] + [Kill, Kill, Kill]

Screw benevolence, wisdom, propriety, righteousness and trustworthiness. I’m a devil and still care about these things. I’ll die!

In a wasteland where civilization has crumbled and order has rotted away, Luo Qiu—a lone remnant clinging to the edge of survival—rises from the filth and radioactive dust. He is not the chosen one, merely a survivor too stubborn to die.

Fate’s cruel gift drags him into the abyss known as the Void Realm—a dimension of madness, where unspeakable horrors twist reality and gnaw at the edges of sanity. His path is a blood-soaked, corpse-littered stairway to godhood, a brutal ascent through decay and despair.

This is the tale of a man who, by trampling gods, demons, and the mighty underfoot, dares to set decay aflame with the spark of free will—birthing something entirely new.

Sanity? Just my power bank.

Reset. Ragnarok.

A dark, unflinching epic, this story is like a slow-cooked broth or a fiery, lingering liquor—meant to be savored, one potent sip at a time.