Praise the Orc! - Chapter 183 - The Last Fire (1)

My name is Qin Jue. At only 16 years of age, I'm already the youngest person to ever become an uncle-grandmaster in the Xuanyi Mountain Sect.Also, I'm the strongest being in this entire world!But unlike other transmigrators, I want nothing to do with the outside world and wish to live a leisurely life on a cliff behind the sect, sipping wine and singing songs.That is until one day, a mysterious girl appears in front of my yard…Join Qin Jue as he deals with sneaky sects and greedy, hostile clans, all while raising a "weed" to sentience and creating heaven-defying spirit-energy "guns".

As we all know, there is a force that must not be messed with in the Southern Region, thatched cottage.

Among them, the eldest disciple is the Qingyun Sword Master of the Southern Region, with a mastery of swordsmanship.

The second disciple, the Eternal Empress, leads an era.

The third disciple is a great Confucianist in the world, and the star of Wenqu came down to earth.

The fourth disciple, the reincarnation of the demon god, suppressed Jiuyou.

…

Lu Changsheng: Me? I am nothing special, just their master.

- Description from novelbuddy

The year was 2026, and the world wasn't what it used to be. Ever since the Abyss Gates cracked open three years ago, spilling monsters and dungeons across the planet, life had turned into a chaotic mess. Cities were half-ruined, half-rebuilt, and people clung to whatever normalcy they could find. Hunters—those brave or crazy enough to fight the monsters—became the new heroes. Everyone else? Well, they just tried to survive.Fin wasn't a Hunter. He wasn't a hero either.He was just… Fin. A lanky 19-year-old with messy brown hair, a chipped front tooth from a dumb skateboard accident, and a power that everyone called useless. Absorption. Sounds cool, right? Like he could suck up energy or steal someone's strength. Nope. All it did was let him “feel” things he touched a little more than normal. He could tell you the exact texture of a brick wall or how warm a coffee mug was—big whoop. No fireballs, no super strength, no flashy moves. Just a glorified touchy-feely trick.“Fin, you gonna eat that sandwich or just stare at it like it's gonna confess its life story?” Meg's voice snapped him out of his thoughts.He blinked and looked across the rickety table at his best friend. Meg was short, loud, and had a wild mop of dyed purple hair that she swore made her look “intimidating.” It didn't.

One day, when a novelist woke up from a restless sleep,he realized that he had transformed into his 12-year-old self.