MTL - Face Slapping The Slag Gong System - Chapter 222 Gift of the mountain god

When he woke up, Yang Yuan found himself reborn.

When he was one year old, “Ah, not only rebirth, but also transmigration.”

At the age of three, “Goldfinger is finally in place!”

Portable space is handy.

Fourteen years old, “What the hell is my golden finger?”

Yang Yuan screamed in the sky…

Thirty-year-old, Yang Yuan, who was hugging from left to right, stood on Emperor Tread Peak, pointing to the vast land, “This is the country that I have conquered!”

Omg, golden fingers are so fragrant!

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What was it like to cross over and become an AI?

Li Wenyuan, who was hit by the meteorite, managed to know that feeling.

It was good that he found that the planet he controlled… seemed to be rather special.

“Precious living metal? A random wall here is living metal!”

“Zelo? You’re saying that Wise Machines don’t need this? Sorry, psychic machinery or something is in production now.”

“Interstellar colony? How about building a ringworld?”

This was a story of kingdom building, which was also a story of human exploration of the universe from the past.

There were space wars, interstellar expeditions, civilizational observations, and galactic epics.

“So…” Some years later, facing the disaster that was about to sweep across the galaxy, the unmanned fleet controlled by Li Wenyuan stood out passively.

“They all think I am a lost empire, and I can only go and do what a lost empire should do.”

Dear readers! Fresh green style, maybe you will like it more in .

How long I’d been here, I couldn’t quite recall. From this sorry situation, I as always raised my eyes to the sky; a sky in which the great, massive sun was clad in levity. Sunlight poured gently upon all. What a blessing it would have been for the world if only the skies could remain clear. For tomorrow too, and for all days to come, I was to continue to pray for calm. To endure for those who cried, with desperation I remained in prayer.

And then, one freezing, forlorn, soulless, stagnant, drizzly day we died. Or so I thought…

There are gods in the sky, there are people on the earth, and there are no immortals in the world.

Three thousand years ago, the gods descended.

The cataclysm of the world, the aura weakens, and the immortals disappear;

One hundred and fifty years ago, the gods descended.

The rich Chipa Plateau and the invincible Panlong Ancient City have all been turned into loess;

After another hundred years, I, descended…

But the starting point to unravel all the mysteries, and even the key to survival in troubled times, starts with being a good dude;

Start from learning to hide the front and defend the clumsiness;

Start with an adventure;

Starting from reversing the established fate;

Most importantly, start by entering the dreamland of the gods.

- Description from novelbuddy