Urban · Apocalypse · Transmigration · Wild Imagination
On the first day of the apocalypse, the whole world was fleeing for its life. Lin Bei, however, sent a message in the family chat: “Mom, are we still having sweet and sour ribs tonight?” It wasn’t that he wasn’t scared. He was just lazy. The moment the Ghost King kicked down his front door, this spoiled rich kid finally made a move. He lifted a finger and slowly typed two words in a sect group chat that had been silent for eight hundred years: “Call backup.”
