Ji Shuang is bound to the System and travels between worlds.
Other quick transmigrators rely on skills and golden fingers. She relies on... a suitcase.
In the first world, she gets 5 kg. She brings a knife, a bag of salt, and a spool of fishing line, and carves out a life as the “emissary of the Mountain God” among a primitive beastfolk tribe.
In the second world, she gets 2.5 kg. Standing at the foot of an outer sect mountain in a xianxia world, she pulls out a sunstone from the primitive world and becomes a “consultant on alchemy techniques.”
In the third world, she gets 45 kg. In a post-apocalyptic wasteland, she carries a magical artifact from an immortal sect and becomes the woman no one dares cross in the shelter.
In the fourth world, she gets 135 kg. In a Cyberpunk ABO world, the paper books she brings are auctioned off by the cybernetic black market as priceless, one-of-a-kind editions.
In the fifth world, she gets 67.5 kg. In a powerful family clan, the high technology she brings shocks the world.
Her luggage doubles every time she clears a world. In each new world, everything she accumulated in the previous one becomes her trump card.
Salt buys trust, knowledge earns status, ore brings opportunity, and information saves lives.
As time goes on, the pack on her back grows heavier, until it’s heavy enough to shift the rules of any world.
But there’s one thing she’s never been able to figure out:
Why does every world have someone with the same face?
