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... people with skin mottled like poisonous snakes were nestled in a stone chamber.

Among them was a man with a face like a lizard, his pupils golden, maintaining a bizarre stance.

"Keeping this thing is a curse, the moment the tyrant tiger armor comes, our entire tribe will be wiped out!" a robed Poison Sub-human holding a long staff said.

"Even if we give it back, the tyrant tiger armor might not spare us," the Poison Sub-human with golden eyes said.

"Why not take t ...

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[From the Author of Author's POV...]

Emotions are like a drug to us.

The more we experience them, the more we become addicted.

The hardest part is not letting them consume us.

But it's already too late for me.

I've already been swallowed whole.

***

I had no knowledge of the game.

I was meant to have died.

And yet, I found myself in this situation.

A game I had never played before. A character I was unfamiliar with, and... A world that seemed to want to swallow me whole with every move I made.

What the hell is going on?

...and who am I?

……………………………………………………………

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A new work from the author of 'My Senior Brother is Too Steady', welcome to enjoy it!-------[Science Fiction Apocalypse Setting + Alone Cultivation Protagonist, Not a Mindless Feel-Good Story]This is a shattered world where human civilization barely gasps for air on a planet ravaged by the Blade Beast catastrophe, the flame of civilization in underground fortresses flickers intermittently, and human elites in space are brewing a final plan to strike back at the Blade Beasts, but the future of humanity is dimly lit by fading stars…“So,”a Mahayana Realm expert, who after cultivating alone for one hundred and twenty-five years failed his tribulation and became a Residual Soul in this 'peculiar' world, sighed deeply as he looked up to the sky:“What the hell does this have to do with me?!”

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Three rejections. Three shattered dreams. That was Layla’s reality, all because she was different—a half-shifter in a world obsessed with purity. Ostracized, shunned, and finally sold off like a pawn to the most feared ruler alive—the Lycan King. He was ruthless, a king with a graveyard of brides, each one a ghostly reminder of a fate worse than death.Layla loathed him. Hated the way his gaze cold and fathomless, held no warmth for her. Hated how his touch, both thrilling and terrifying, sent an uninvited chill down her spine.---“I hate you!” I screamed, hands clenched so tight my knuckles ached.He sighed, a smirk curling at the edge of his lips, his tone mocking as he closed his book with a deliberate snap. “Stressed, are we?” he asked, strolling toward me, each step reminding me exactly who held the power here.“Lucky for you,” he drawled, rolling up his sleeves as he stopped just inches away, “I know exactly 70 ways to ease those nerves.” His fingers brushed my cheek, a touch that seemed to burn into my skin. “The first… a hug.” His voice dropped to a rough whisper as he leaned in, breath hot against my ear. “And the rest... well, that's 69? what do you say about that?”I swallowed hard, my heart thudding wildly as he tilted his head, waiting for me to react, that insufferable smirk still in place.“What’s the matter, darling?” he murmured, a taunt lingering in his gaze.---A Dangerous ObsessionCan she resist the pull, or will she dance into the flames of her own destruction?A dark dive into obsession, raw need, and the razor’s edge between desire and devastation.---LYCAN KING CASSIANI will tear her apart piece by piece, feeding the wildfire that grips her with each shuddered breath. Like air to flame, I’ll claim every inch, drawing heat from her skin until it sinks into her bones.Her pulse will race under my hands, her breaths shallow, pleading. Her eyes may scream, but her lips will still murmur my name. That first taste of fear will only feed something deeper—a need that burns through her veins, molten and fierce.And just when she’s too far gone to turn back, I’ll twist the knife, giving her the pain she’s learned to crave.She’ll be the moth to my flame, helpless against the very thing that will consume her.

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Zhang Deming has traversed, but why do other people traverse with their own system cheats, various lucky draws, bonus points, and experience from killing people.

Why is it just a code editing tool when I come to him, and everything has to be coded out by myself?

When he activated his golden finger, he saw the familiar code: if () {Cloud and Rain Technique cast successfully} else{Cast failed}

Zhang Deming breathed a sigh of relief. Fortunately, as a senior programmer who died on the overtime desk, Zhang Deming said that if you give me an editing tool, I can code a world.

No system? It doesn’t matter, he will knock it out, he wants to wholesale the system and be the man behind the system.

ps: This article is a semi-hard sci-fi sci-fi article with a sci-fi core in the skin of fairy tale fantasy.

There will be a lot of professional basic knowledge of programmers, if you can’t understand the relevant professional language.

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- Description from novelbuddy