MTL - Spiritual Energy: I Just Want To Farm Peacefully - Chapter 395 attack

Lin ShuYi was sentenced to death by the traitorous Emperor for a treasonous crime he didn’t commit. Before drinking the poisonous wine on the execution ground, he stared up at the snow falling from the sky and said to himself, “This is for the best, I will be a cook in my next life! I miss roast chicken…”

This novel is also known as Don't Mess with the Dark Princess

When trash becomes a genius—one word: Fierce! Two words: Two-faced! Three words: Too heaven defying!

She is the foremost and outstanding armament refining master. Passing through a dynasty, and became a publicly humiliated and bullied Third Young Miss. Ancient beasts, too outrageous? Obediently become a docile pet, or I’ll make you into soup!

Ninth rank talent, rare talent in a thousand years? She was born with a godly constitution, crushing all geniuses!

Peak level Profound Grade Armament, beyond priceless? Sorry to embarrass, but the bowl she uses to feed the cat is already at the God Grade….. she possessed a pair of eyes that could see through everything, yet she couldn’t see through—him!

Merely exposing his demonic smile, Prince Mou lightly loosened his belt: “Can’t see through? Do not fret, you can slowly view when you return to the room. I’ll allow you to scrupulously inspect from head to toe.”

- Description from Novelupdates

Life is often full of curveballs. It likes to keep you on your toes.But what can a regular guy do when he gets booted to a world full of gods, dragons, devils, angels, yokai vampires and everything in between with only the clothes on his back and a reality-bending gacha behind him?His best apparently.

I had finally done it—achieved the ultimate Paladin build. Maxed stats, impenetrable armor, and so many resistances that death itself had given up on me. I was an unkillable tank, an indomitable force. Nothing could stop me.And then my PC exploded.I died.Irony, thou art a cruel mistress.But instead of the afterlife, I woke up as my Paladin character… in the wrong freaking genre. Instead of castles and dungeons, there were people flying around on swords, shooting qi beams like fantasy laser guns.“This is definitely the wrong genre,” I muttered, watching a pompous young master sneer at me.“Kowtow, kiss my foot, and beg for forgiveness!” he declared.I looked at my imaginary maxed-out health bar, then at his flimsy silk robes.Oh, this was going to be fun.