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... h suspicion, “Who’s he, Zheng Qian?”

Zheng Qian was so frightened by Ye Feng’s words that he couldn’t open his mouth!

In an instant, he oozed sweat profusely!

After hearing Lock Tsar’s words, he then said reluctantly, “This… this is Mr. Ye! He has come to the Soul-Fighting City especially to buy game souls!”

‘Oh, I see!’

Lock Tsar understood his words. However, when he noticed that Ye Feng was just a god-level master, he instantly said with a faint disdainful look, ...

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Im-sol is an ordinary student who is about to graduate from college.

Hiding the fact that she is a fan of Ryu Seon-jae, the fifth member of the Idol group ‘Potato Pancakes’,

Right now, she is doing cosplay in public.

-BREAKING NEWS- Ryu Seon-jae, a member of the Idol group, ‘Potato Pancakes’, is dead!

Then one day, because of an accident, Ryu Seon-jae died and Im-Sol, who was in sorrow, accidentally picked up a pocket watch and made a time leap to the past, six years ago.….

Gray pants, white shirt, beige knit vest.

No matter how much she blinked and squinted at him, he was standing alive, right before her.

“Seon-jae, that’s Seon-jae. Ah, it’s him. He’s real.”

Ryu Seon-jae, a high school student who she only saw in the picture, was right in front of her eyes.

This may be an opportunity.

An opportunity to prevent Ryu Seon-jae from joining Potato Pancakes and becoming its 5th ‘unlucky’ member.

An opportunity to save Ryu Seon-jae, who died at the age of 23 with no luck because he took a wrong cold medicine.

Eighteen to live again, with only one goal.

It is to save Ryu Seon-jae!

To save the best in the past,

Im-sol’s struggling ordeal, ‘The Best of Tomorrow.’

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Until he became the lowest-ranked master, his lonely and luckless life never changed.

Suddenly one day, a descendant injected him with a nanomachine, and the machine started ‘speaking’ to him.

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“What? What are you talking about?”

This was beyond the boy’s knowledge, he turned pale.

The Nanomachine linked to his cerebrum realized the User was not understanding a single word it said.

“Who are you, and why are you doing this to me?”

[“I am the seventh generation Nanomachine.]

“Nano Mashin?”

[Yes, Nanomachine.]

The boy’s face hardened.

Mashin was the deity the Mashin Religion worshipped, along with the Sacred Fire.

The religions’ Master communicated with Mashin.

“Um, are you really Mashin?”

The boy knelt down and asked with a trembling voice. At this, the Nanomachine attached to his cerebrum realized it had been misunderstood.

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