Wang Hao had no desire to be a tribal chief. He wanted to ride in a car instead of walking, use a computer for entertainment, and cook with a microwave. If enemies showed up, he wanted to take them out with planes and tanks.
Fortunately, with the System, it seemed his wishes might come true.
“I'm really not a god, and this isn't an invulnerable heavenly soldier. It's just a stupid robot. I've taught it to say ‘Boss, would you like tea or coffee?’ in a Sichuan accent tens of thousands of times, and it still hasn't learned.”
“This isn't a heavenly steed. It's just a dirt bike I brought out for fun. Damn it, how many times do I have to tell you? It doesn't eat meat! Who stuffed meat into its gas tank this time?”
Now Wang Hao had a new wish. He wanted to see the dumbfounded looks on the faces of the stupid primitives in his territory when he puffed on a cigarette, drove a tank, and blasted two gluttonous Titans to death with a single shot.
