In the Age of Declining Dharma, I Know Just a Tiny Bit of Magic

In this age of spiritual decline, the Dao has faded from sight.

Others spend ten years in hard cultivation and still can’t light a single Samadhi True Fire talisman.

Lu Ren looks at the [Beginner Lightning Summoning Technique] he just unlocked, then at the note in the manual saying its power is “comparable to a household induction cooker,” and silently abandons the idea of using it to cook hot pot.

In this world, magic is useless, but livestreaming antique appraisals is profitable.

With his golden finger that lets him see “comments from the past and present,” he accurately spots bargains and quietly builds up his strength.

A haunted house is full of baleful energy? He mixes cinnabar with black dog blood and splashes on a whole new interior design style.

A tomb is crawling with zombies? He uses a stun gun and a fire axe to perform a physical exorcism across species.

Everyone thinks he’s a funny streamer with absurdly good luck.

That is, until spiritual energy returns, monsters run rampant, and an old enemy comes back with overwhelming power, surrounding him and his little shop on all sides.

With countless cameras trained on him, Lu Ren sighs and reluctantly pulls out a crumpled talisman.

“I really only know a tiny bit.”

The next instant, a bolt of purple divine lightning stretches across the sky, turning night into day.

The authorities list him overnight as a “National Strategic Deterrent.”

Looking at the new allowance in his account and the scorched wasteland before him, Lu Ren is on the verge of tears.

“I just want to keep my head down and retire. Why is that so hard?”