Li Twelve's soul traveled to a world invaded by games. Everyone has a guardian spirit and everyone has the opportunity to become a god. Just when he was happy to reconnect with the goddess in his previous life, he found that he was a waste that everyone despised.
It makes sense that a drunkard can recite poems and compose poems.
It makes sense for an alcoholic to know some swordsmanship.
...
What? The Chairman of the Federation of All Humanity squatted at the door for three days just to let me save the world?
Sorry, my alcoholic is a loser.
