MotivatedSloth

Scorned by the world he was born in, Arthur had no other choice but to learn how to deal with it. Yet, just as his hard work and dedication were about to pay off, the hate towards his origins brought him to his death. 

But that wasn't his fate. His future wasn't supposed to end with his head cracking against the edge of the stairs. His bloodline could not die as that would be against the wish of the universe itself. 

Thrown to another world, he found himself in a situation where the skills and craft he honed would be no longer of use. His patience, his creativity, his logical thinking were no longer in demand in a world where strength reigned supreme. 

Or was it?

"My system is overpowered. I'm not shameless enough to deny it."

"Scores of women and slaves all around? Those are the wishes of a naive kid, not mine."

"Lower the price of those apples by a quarter and we will have a deal!"

"Dear, stop, I cannot hold any longer!"

Jump in and follow Arthur's adventures as he proves that even the illogical world of sword and cultivation has its own rules. Laws, that one can learn, laws, that Arthur sets off to use to his own advantage!


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This novel will have some comedic elements, but it won't be the core of the story. I also won't hold back any punches when it comes to dark humor, heavy elements or morally ambiguous aspects. If you are looking for a fckboy/edgelord/cliche, then his novel is not for you.

Discord: https://discord.gg/PNGgcMr

One Last System

Ackhart was at a loss for words.

'Just how did the situation devolve to this so quickly?' the man asked himself, burying his face in his hands.

He sat deeply in his seat, refusing to get involved in the ongoing scuffle.

'Ever since this feeling appeared...' Ackhart thought before biting down on his lips.

The world around didn't seem real. The reaction of the highest ranks of the local cultivators disappointed him to no end.

Now that there was some real emergency ongoing, they all split into factions to push the blame.

Not a single soul attempted to find a way to solve their problem.

Ackhart rested his back against the soft cushions of the sofa. He didn't bother to intervene in the ongoing debate for one reason only.

Even if he wanted, he had no means to change anything.

'A powerhouse for the disciples, just another elder among equals,' Ackhart thought with a self-pointed irony.

Turning point (1.2)