The First Hunter - Chapter 8

An Hao leaped, thinking she had died, but to her surprise, when she opened her eyes, she found herself back in the year 1985. To live a second life, did she have to endure the abuse of her stepmother and stepsister again, the dislike of her mother-in-law and disdain from her sister-in-law, and the betrayal of her best friend who bravely became the other woman just to slap her in the face and climb the social ladder? Was she supposed to end her miserable life in poverty again? An Hao's answer was, “Eat! Shit! No!” She was determined to make something of herself, to get rich by capitalizing on her knowledge and aim for a well-off life. This time around, she was going to be the protective big sister who reformed her worthless little brother who had died a wretched death, and the virtuous wife to make up for her past neglect of her husband! She wouldn't let this life go to waste in despair! A malicious best friend? Coveting her man? Not a chance! Go hang out wherever it's cool! Cough cough, how did she not realize in her past life that this “Stoic King of Hell” was so indecent. Decent? You've had your fill of decency during the day.

“I am not an ordinary detective, but a NEET detective. Searching the whole world to locate the words of the dead.”

The NEET Detective leading the NEETs who gathered in the dark alley – Alice said that.

The perplexing incident that Ayaka and I were wound into during the winter of my first year at high school, and also the malicious drug ‘Angel Fix’ that corroded the city, the mystery was unraveled by the detective girl Alice who doesn’t take even one step out of her room.

“Knowing the truth might destroy the tranquil life of your past, do you wish to know even so?”

Because of my answer, the NEETs who usually do nothing were mobilized to solve the case!

Jiang He might have transmigrated to a world of Qi and martial arts, but the System that he got only provided him with… seeds.

The protracted ’witch hunting’ had faded into silence with the end of the Seven Years’ War, and the mysteries of the East Coast had begun to conceal themselves, yet gunpowder was on a rapid rise. Mo Qishang, who should have been utterly confounded, stood at the crossroads of destiny in the name of Arthur. He stared in astonishment at the charging knights, the wizards atop the high towers, and the bizarre wilderness. He felt the sharpness of the longsword and the recoil of the firearm, both clear and unfamiliar. At last, he excitedly shook his robe and, with a smile on his face, said— “Do not believe what I say, for to believe is to exist!”