Chaotic Sword God
Apocalypse Gacha
Necromancer: I Am A Disaster
Martial Cultivator
Aspiring to the Immortal Path
Reincarnation of the Strongest Sword God - Side Stories
Nightmare Assault
I, The Dragon Overlord
Loser System and Berserker Me
Horror Game Designer
There's Absolutely No Problem With The Magic Cards I Made!
Swear Fealty To Me, My Subjects!
Chaotic Sword God
Chapter 3829: An Answer
Nightmare Assault
Chapter 246: What are you Waiting For?
Horror Game Designer
Chapter 324: Flying Seeds
Apocalypse Gacha
Chapter 1173- Crystal Pillar rankings
Apocalypse Gacha
Chapter 1172- Sky Monument Path
Aspiring to the Immortal Path
Chapter 945: Resisting the Mandate of Heaven (3)
Snow-Kissed Rose (GL)
Chapter 17
Martial Cultivator
Chapter 620: The Young Man in the Monastery
Chaotic Sword God
Chapter 3828: Investigation
Horror Game Designer
Chapter 323: How Many Things Live Inside His Heart?
Nightmare Assault
Chapter 245: Present
Apocalypse Gacha
Chapter 1171- Three abilties
Aspiring to the Immortal Path
Chapter 944: Resisting the Mandate of Heaven (2)
Apocalypse Gacha
Chapter 1170- King pearls
Snow-Kissed Rose (GL)
Chapter 16
The Demon King is Too Unfathomable!
Chapter 32: The First Trade
Martial Cultivator
Chapter 619: Old Monk in the Monastery
Chaotic Sword God
Chapter 3827: Discarded
(The tube sprayed out a foul odor, similar to the earlier smell of dirty socks in the room's toilet.)
(You cover the bag and hypnotize yourself into thinking it's a pleasant perfume.)
(Your emotions finally stabilize.)
(Although the gas smells bad, at least it prevents you from suffocating to death.)
(You guess that the rule you just violated, A-001, might be something like not breathing fresh air.)
(Now with a sentence of ten million years, you might be a lowest-tier third-class citizen.)
(You queue up at the service window.)
(Service Clerk: What business do you have?)
(You think for a moment.)
(You: I want to find a job.)
(Service Clerk: Please present your citizen ID.)
(You mimic others and extend your right wrist. The clerk scans it with a device.)
(Service Clerk: Your current sentence is ten million years. Please complete your tasks as soon as possible. Otherwise, you will be forcibly executed. After reducing your sentence, please immediately rent a service robot from the fence area, and then you can leave the containment station and live in the city.)
(You: Thank you.)
(You nod, realizing that you are in a containment station.)
(Those breathing through bags, like you, are bottom-tier citizens, while those not wearing bags are the staff of the containment station.)
(You leave the service hall, following the clerk's directions.)
(You find the Citizen's Handbook at the entrance.)
(Opening it, you see it's filled with rules starting with the letter 'A', numbering in the hundreds, seemingly more complex than a code of law.)
(A sentence of ten million to nine million years classifies as a third-class citizen, nine million to six million as a second-class citizen, and six million to one million as a first-class citizen.)
(Different citizens must adhere to different rules. Third-class citizens, for example, have the most rules to follow, such as:)
(1. No running in public areas.)
(2. No idleness.)
(3. No casual conversation with citizens of a higher class.)
(4. No staying in a closed space wit
…
We are unable to load the verification.
Please unblock any scripts or login to continue reading.