When the fat little Lin Feng died suddenly in front of the computer in 2028, his mouse was still stuck on the recharge interface of Tian Long Ba Bu - he had just spent all his salary for this month on the new limited edition fashion.
When I opened my eyes again, the cicadas were chirping noisily. On the screen of the old desktop computer was the login interface from 2008, and the server of "Netcom Zone 1 - Badaling" was still glowing red.
In the mirror, I look chubby and silly, with the fifty yuan "data fee" I just cheated from my mother in my pocket.
This time, he holds the version of the prophet for the next ten years: he knows which BOSS will explode, knows which mental skills will defy the sky in the later stage, and even remembers the unpopular rare beasts that he despised as "useless" but were later sold to sky-high prices...
But when the Emei trumpet who always liked to rob other monsters and spoke in a coquettish voice appeared on the screen again, the little fat man suddenly realized that there seemed to be more important things worthy of starting over than hoarding equipment and making a lot of money.
"Hey, little Emei, shall I take you to clear the dungeon this time?"
