My name is Lin Chuan. I was a programmer during my lifetime and a plane corrector after my death.
Others rely on the system to quickly travel, rely on golden fingers, and rely on the boss to guide them. I'm different.
I rely on finding bugs.
In the first world, the more famous people are, the weaker they are. There are 2,300 people in the whole sect who can't name me, and the "number one genius" they praised has only 300 people in the fan club.
I squatted in the martial arts arena to mend the floor tiles she smashed. She stood on a high platform and received cheers from thousands of people. Her spiritual energy was leaking out and her foundation was weak. Even an outer disciple could tell that she was about to lose weight. But no one said it, no one mentioned it - everyone was shouting "Senior Sister is invincible".
I finished patching the bricks and stood up, patting the dust off my hands.
The next day, I blocked her full blow with a broom. Her palm prints were shattered, her hand bones were cracked, and her cultivation collapsed on the spot, returning it to all the disciples whose talents she had sucked away.
She knelt on the stage and cried, asking me who I was.
I took out a broken piece of wood from my arms and read out in front of the whole audience: "List of debts. All debts will be settled today with interest."
There are ninety-nine worlds after that. Every world has its sick rules, and behind every rule there is a path to counterattack. Some people kill people by worshiping them, but I kill them by questioning them. Someone used charity to pretend to be a good person, so I would eat every mouthful of food he gave me and turn it into upgraded strength. Someone made up a tragic fate for me, but I decided to tear up the script and rewrite it.
I carry a wooden board with me and remember it wherever I go. Name, debt, interest, term - everything is calculated clearly.
My name is Lin Chuan. This world owes you, let me help you collect it.
