My name is Ting Hua, a former agent, codenamed "Taotie" - it's not that I can eat, it's that I'm good at swallowing the enemy's bones and skin without spitting out the dregs.
As a result, during a mission, he stepped on a Feng Shui formation and was directly blasted into a world of high martial arts. The average person here can break mountains with one punch, crack the ground with one kick, and there are also a group of "Ninja" disciples who are the second best in the world and shout "not enough chakra" every day.
And what about me? He has zero spiritual power and useless physical skills. The only thing he can use is his old skill - secret agent assassination skills and the secret Feng Shui skills he learned from tomb robbing notes.
In order to survive, I can only pretend to be a grandson. Pretending to be a grandson, pretending to be the last in the school, pretending to be a coward who doesn't dare to jump in line when eating in the cafeteria.
But when I used Feng Shui array to trap the S-class ferocious beast in the toilet cubicle, used agent disguise to sneak into the enemy's core base, and used the "Hokage Run" posture to deceive all the masters - they discovered that this "waste" held the lifeblood of the entire continent in his hands.
There is no system, no golden fingers, just a face that can act and a heart that is dirty to the core.
Don't ask me why I am strong, just ask: you idiots who rely on chakra to fight will never understand the professionalism of a former agent.
