When the voice of his late father came from outside the door, Shen Lin realized - this was no ordinary haunting, this was an "abnormally polluted area" with rules, wisdom and purpose.
And his only golden finger is not a system or a spell, but the profession he has been doing for ten years: structural reinforcement.
Use grouting to seal the cracks at the wellhead, use reinforced concrete to pour the underground Great Wall, and use high-temperature steam to cook the ancient heart deep in the mantle.
He can't draw talismans or recite incantations, but he can calculate reinforcements, adjust mixing ratios, and operate a drilling machine.
This is a war between engineers and ancient beings. The weapon is not a mahogany sword, but cement; the position is not a Taoist temple, but a construction site; the tactics are not to exorcise evil spirits, but to cut off their blood, eliminate their energy, and seal their roots.
It starts from a well in western Hunan and ends at 3,200 kilometers of underground barriers.
Thirty-two people, one thousand two hundred people, three thousand people. I built my own boiler, laid my own pipes, and poured my own walls.
This is not cultivating immortality, but infrastructure. It's not a spell, it's a project.
