A tour bus entered a tunnel. After a flash of blinding white light, the thirty-odd passengers aboard had all transmigrated to the chaotic final years of the Ming dynasty.
The moment they arrived, rebel forces outside the city were shouting for blood and launching a fierce assault on the county seat.
The others immediately grew excited, rubbing their hands together, their ambitions soaring:
“I'm going to conquer the realm!”
“I'll crush the rebels, drive out the Tartars, and usher in a golden age!”
Everyone wanted to become a warlord in this chaotic age, and they were caught up in a fierce race to outdo one another.
I was the only one who looked completely indifferent.
The next moment, the [Anti-Grind System] officially activated.
While everyone else fought tooth and nail over territory, credit, and kills, competing themselves to death,
I just wanted to find somewhere to lie flat, eat my fill, and wait to die.
System: No competing. No picking fights. The more you slack off, the stronger you get.
While the others battled desperately on the front lines, I farmed in the rear and won without lifting a finger.
Only after they'd fought themselves bloody did they realize:
I was the one least interested in conquering the realm, yet I already owned it all.
The new book is great, come here