I stared at my own chubby little paws, my fingertips as soft as freshly peeled lychees, while my brain exploded like a string of firecrackers. One second, I was a thirty-year-old veteran couch potato, sprawled on the sofa with an ice-cold soda in hand and work keeping me up all night. The next, I opened my eyes and had shrunk into an eight-year-old with snot about to drip off my chin?
Even more absurdly, a [National Power System] suddenly boomed inside my head. Its icy mechanical voice was like a blade pulled straight from an ice cellar, scraping painfully against my eardrums. “Greetings, Host. Current world level: transcendent upper realm. Warning: modern firearms are completely useless. In this place, even a blue-flame Gatling gun is worse than a fire poker in a stove. Main quest: complete the return mission issued by this System, and you can go back to your original world.”
Me: “...”
So transmigrating didn’t give me a golden finger. It just dropped me into a hell-difficulty start from the start? Immortals, demons, monsters, and ghosts run rampant in this world. Ordinary people are afraid they’ll be shattered by the aftershock just standing in the background, and even cheat-level artifacts are out of commission. How am I supposed to get out of this mess...
