Everyone Is A Lord: My Talent Is A Little Too Strong - Chapter 7 - : Chapter 7: Taking Stock of the Harvest_1

Lu Zhiguang is not a cannon fodder himself, but his mission is to save the miserable cannon fodder.

Xia Ruofei, a retired special warfare elite, unexpectedly discovered that the ancestral scrolls contained a small space that was independent.

There are Lingtan waters that promote plant growth in the space. There are mysterious spiritual flowers that cure all diseases. They also bring ten times the time flow rate. What is planted is a fine product, everything grows fast, and what can be cultivated is spiritual…

From then on, planting flowers, planting trees, raising animals, and licking beautiful women, Xia Ruofei opened a wonderful life.

- Description from ptwxz (translated)

For twenty years since his soul had transmigrated, Bailuo thought this was an ordinary world, until one day, a black leather book appeared in his mind.“Is there magic in this world?”Facing Bailuo’s question, his uncle remained unwavering as he said, “No.”“But there are miracles.”“What are miracles?”“A sword that can release flames, a pot that can pour out gold, a beautiful girl grown from a fruit.”The uncle said, “Controlling the mist, bringing the storm, commanding the thunder.”“Magic!”Bailuo raised his hand and pointed, “This is definitely magic!”“No.”His uncle said, “These are truly miracles.”Years later, when Bailuo looked upon the nation he had built with his own hands, that magnificent and majestic sight, he agreed with what his uncle had said all those years ago, “This is a miracle…”

I had finally done it—achieved the ultimate Paladin build. Maxed stats, impenetrable armor, and so many resistances that death itself had given up on me. I was an unkillable tank, an indomitable force. Nothing could stop me.And then my PC exploded.I died.Irony, thou art a cruel mistress.But instead of the afterlife, I woke up as my Paladin character… in the wrong freaking genre. Instead of castles and dungeons, there were people flying around on swords, shooting qi beams like fantasy laser guns.“This is definitely the wrong genre,” I muttered, watching a pompous young master sneer at me.“Kowtow, kiss my foot, and beg for forgiveness!” he declared.I looked at my imaginary maxed-out health bar, then at his flimsy silk robes.Oh, this was going to be fun.