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Strongest Radioactive System

VOLK SMAAAAASSH! Reincarnated with a body like a nuclear bomb, let's turn this magical world into a nuclear wasteland! As someone who loved fighting, Volk Mogger was the most miserable of them all. Born with a small frame, tiny limbs, and underdeveloped muscles, he struggled to grasp anything that was taught to him. He was relegated to merely watching others fight—whether on the internet, on television, or in real life. One day, while riding in his wheelchair, he was abducted and taken to a strange place for a radioactive experiment, which ultimately failed. However, Volk soon discovered that he had been reincarnated in a magical world as a member of an Orc horde, which was hunted by higher life forms despite merely wanting to establish a land where they could honor their traditions and build a home alongside their symbiotic partners, the Elven Witch races. Suddenly, a system screen appeared before Volk, announcing that he had acquired the power to transform into an invincible radioactive titan who yearns to be the strongest of them all. However, this transformation had a time limit, and to extend that limit, he had to win! But win what? Ding! | Beat up the Orcs thief who stole your spoil and a chance to have a wife! | Reward: Extend the radioactive time to 2 minutes. | Failure: Minus 1 minute. | Current radioactive time: 2 minutes. |

Espiritu_Santu · Krieg
Zu wenig Bewertungen
346 Chs
#ACTION
#ADVENTURE
#SYSTEM
#MAGIC
#HAREM
#OVERPOWERED
#KINGDOMBUILDING
#NONHUMAN
#BLOODPUMPING

Another horde ahead

Soon, Volk was thinking of a grand feast!

The braided female frowned. "You mean... food?"

"Yes, food!" Volk barked, his voice brimming with conviction. He gestured toward the forest, as if envisioning a grand future.

"We are building something here. A new horde. A mighty horde! And what better way to celebrate this union than with a feast? Not just any feast—a feast of humans!"

The group's eyes widened at the thought.

Volk's tone grew more intense, his words like a hammer striking an anvil.

"Think about it. Their flesh roasted over the fire, their bones turned into weapons, their blood spilled in honor of our new alliance. A true celebration of strength and unity!"

Well, that was his intention anyway.

The scarred male nodded slowly, a grin spreading across his scarred face. "A feast... a celebration... I like this idea, Warchief."

Volk held up a hand.