"Lin Zhao! You're here to burn money! It's only the third day, and the elite-level [Flame Knife], the elite-level one, has been turned into a pile of scrap metal by you!"
In Xingyue Workshop, Lao Chen was so excited that his saliva almost flew into Lin Zhao's face.
Lin Zhao lowered his head. The smell of burnt magic patterns was everywhere on his body, like a rag doll that had just been dug out of the trash.
He was also full of despair!
Looking at the pile of discarded card materials in front of him, Lin Zhao felt as if his life was about to be discarded.
It is now 2147, the era of Kaneng civilization.
