I Transmigrated to Ancient Times with a System Warehouse

## Chewing Bark from the Start, Becoming an Industrial King in the End

> Chen Mo transmigrates into the body of a refugee who is chewing tree bark, and unexpectedly activates his System Warehouse.

> At first, he has only enough energy to trade for a pair of pliers, but they get him half a sack of life-saving millet.

> He trades modern tools for food and gathers the starving to build a camp.

> When the great clans cut off the grain supply, he uses an earthen kiln to make coke and smelt steel.

> When plague ravages the land, he trades for antibiotics and saves an entire city.

> As the allied lords surround the city, the roar of steam locomotives tears through the battlefield.

> Years later, his railways span the land, and electric lights illuminate the night.

> The refugees kneel in worship. “Lord Chen, you must be an immortal descended to earth!”

> He smiles at the glass-clad skyscrapers. “No, this is just science.”

A stabbing, bone-deep cramp dragged Chen Mo out of the darkness. The pain would not let up, as if a rusty, blunt knife were scraping back and forth inside his utterly empty stomach. Every spasm seemed to make the bones throughout his body creak. He jerked his eyes open. Everything in his vision was a murky gray, clouded by a layer of grime and dried sweat, along with an exhaustion he could not shake.

The sky overhead was a despairing leaden gray, pressing down as if it were a vast, filthy shroud. The air was filled with an indescribable mixture of smells: the acrid stench of charred wood, the earthy odor of drought-stricken soil split with cracks, and... a faint, sickly-sweet stench of decay that slithered into his nostrils like a venomous snake. It was the smell of corpses quietly rotting in the heat.

He stiffly turned his neck, and his cervical vertebrae gave a dry, soft click. Before his eyes lay hell on earth, a vision of