Lin Hao never expected to transmigrate right into the middle of the war between the three clans.
Even less did he expect the System’s golden finger to be an invincible dojo just one square meter in size.
What can you do with one square meter? You can’t even stretch your legs out when you lie down.
But he soon discovers that within that single square meter, he is a god.
A dragon claw falls inside? With a thought, he can shrink it or strip off its scales.
A phoenix wing falls inside? Sprinkle on cumin, roast it over a fire, crack open a cold beer. He can create it all out of thin air.
Outside, countless members of the dragon, phoenix, and qilin clans lie dead or wounded, while their leaders fight in a frenzy.
The Primordial Continent is torn to pieces, and the air is thick with karmic burden.
Lin Hao sits in his little world, eating barbecue and drinking, watching the world-shaking battle from beginning to end.
When it finally ends, he thinks it’s all over.
Then demonic energy surges, and Luohu bursts through the void. “Hahaha! The three clans’ karmic burden is just what I need to attain the Dao!”
Lin Hao sets down his beer can. “Got another job?”
Check the information carefully first. Hongjun has not yet become a saint. When will Nuwa become a quasi-sage?
The writing is messy and inconsistent. During the Longhan Tribulation, Sanqing and the others were not born yet.