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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 · สงคราม
Not enough ratings
320 Chs

Tough old mage

Gerhardt, bloodied and battered, stumbled across the battlefield, every step a testament to his desperation.

His staff, a once-pristine artifact of power, was now splintered and smeared with grime, shaking in his trembling hands.

His mana reserves were nearly depleted, and his body screamed in agony from the countless wounds carved into his flesh. Yet, his eyes burned with a fierce determination.

"I won't die here. Not like this. Not to them." His voice was hoarse, barely audible above the chaos around him.

As he fell to his knees, surrounded by the smoldering ruins of his comrades and their fallen mounts, Gerhardt made a choice that would haunt the battlefield for eternity.

With trembling fingers, he reached into his blood-soaked robes and pulled out a rune-carved dagger, its blade gleaming faintly with forbidden magic.

Desperate times call for desperate measures, he thought grimly, clutching the dagger tightly.