Rating(4.7 / 5.0, 145 votes)
|5||81% (118 votes)|
|4||12% (17 votes)|
|3||3% (5 votes)|
|2||2% (3 votes)|
|1||1% (2 votes)|
Author(s)One entry per line
Artist(s)One entry per line
Status in COOStatus in Country of Origin. One entry per line
-259 Chapters (Completed)
- 8 extra chapters (completed)
Original PublisherOne entry per line
English PublisherOne entry per line
Release FrequencyEvery 4.6 Day(s)
Activity Stats [Graph]Weekly Rank: #265
Monthly Rank: #263
All Time Rank: #2209
Reading List [Graph]
On 2997 Reading Lists
Monthly Rank: #520
All Time Rank: #1952
DescriptionLinks are NOT allowed. Format your description nicely so people can easily read them. Please use proper spacing and paragraphs.
The washed-up magician Zong Jiu transmigrated into a horror, infinite flow novel about a survival show, taking the place of the cannon fodder who died tragically in the first evaluation round. This show was very interesting. Out of the tens of thousand people, only a hundred people could survive, and the c-position (strongest contender) could even get a universal wish ticket.
If it were someone else, they’d probably be scared to death.
No one expected that Zong Jiu was not only unafraid, but also caused a sensational stir, shamelessly showing off his tricks the whole way.
Once his tricks stopped, and his life could be considered safe and sound, he ended up in a rivalry with the novel’s big villain.
Today you try to get at me, tomorrow I’ll get you back, back and forth, it’s pretty fun, heh.
As a result, though it was just playing around, one time they got carried away and really did end up sleeping together. Watching the nemesis who was pressing him to the ground, Zong Jiu lazily lifted his gaze. “If you want to kill me then kill me, don’t speak nonsense.” Even when at a disadvantage, he showed no trace of fear, and actually continued to provoke him.
That person used his ice-cold finger to trace his ear, and the action heading toward the aorta suddenly stopped.
“What a pity. I’ve changed my mind.”
He was once very willing to personally give Zong Jiu death. Every day, he used to regret not gouging out his flesh, personally snapping his neck. But after this person fell into his hands, another, more urgent desire grew like weeds.
Compared to winning or losing, he would rather see him crying and panting, with eyes red, begging for mercy.
Associated NamesOne entry per line
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