The Sacred Land Is Going Bankrupt, I Invented a Mobile Phone! - Chapter 2: Low-grade Magical Artifact? Communication Rings!

Chang An is a sub-beast who, despite having the talent for the sword, did not have the constitution to support it. And his savior, Hua Yi, is a beastman on the run for his life.

This is a story about how two once innocent children had to grow up in such a cruel beastman world.

- Description from Novelupdates

After struggling in the apocalypse for ten years, Yao Ran died and returned to the three months before everything began. She returns with hatred and thirsts for revenge, intent on making those who owe her pay with their lives.With her grandfather's inheritance, Yao Ran sold everything and frantically hoarded weapons, medicine, food, and supplies. She sharpened her sword, stockpiled up supplies, settled scores with scoundrels and villains, and repaid them with both enmity and kindness.When disaster strikes, she begins her revenge, facing a dangerous world, and is determined to outlast her previous life.

He, since childhood, had followed the Foreigner to practice the Defying Heaven Art, entering the most secretive special forces and becoming a fearsome assassin that made others tremble at the mere mention of his name. After a single failure, he took early retirement, but he ended up as the personal bodyguard for a rich heiress, a school beauty. Accidentally provoking some mysterious Cultivators, he gradually unveiled a hidden world of Cultivation beyond the mortal realm...

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.