MTL - Enchantress Amongst Alchemists: Ghost King’s Wife (Phoenix Cry Firmament) - Chapter 1478 Battle of Warcraft (9)

When Song Qinghan woke up, he found that he had not only transmigrated into another world, but also… had a ball in his stomach. He thought the original owner of this body had left a total mess to him. But it turned out there was a piece of precious jade hidden in it. Looking at the six-pack abs of Wu Dahu, he rubbed his hands with great excitement. Farming, your job! Hunting, your job! Giving birth, ahem, you worked hard! But surgery… leave it to me!

Year 20XX, the world was thrown into chaos when the Tower of Yxthar appeared...A colossal structure reaching beyond the sky, its countless floors each a gateway to a different world. These realms, seemingly connected to distant universes, spilled their dangers into Earth, unleashing monsters, invaders, and unknown horrors that threatened humanity’s survival.But from this catastrophe emerged an era of superhumans.... individuals awakened with extraordinary abilities.They became known as Stream Hunters, a title with dual meaning:“Hunter” for their combat prowess and “Streamer” because they broadcast their battles not just to Earth but across the multiverse.Through their streams, Stream Hunters gained viewers from other worlds, earning gifts and, if fortunate, the backing of a powerful Main Sponsor.Adam, an average ranking Stream Hunter, was just a background figure in their adventures... until the unimaginable happened.He woke up fifteen years before the catastrophe that would doom the world!Resigned to enjoying what little time he had left, Adam prepared for an arduous journey...But fate had another twist: he unlocked the Multiversal Livestream System...Granting him the power to copy the skills of his viewers.

If I were to fall into a game, I wish I would fall when I was young.

[Longevity + Discipleship + No Female Lead + Lighthearted Humor with No Tragic Moments]When his master picks food, he spins the table there;When his master chants spells, he chats without a care;When his master takes rest, he sings a lively song;When his master lies late, he bangs the pot along;His master lives on long, but his life is rather short;His master lays him down on the hillside, as a sort;His master lifts a cup, but he won’t take a drink;His master shares a tale, but he won’t stop to think;His master holds a feast, but he leaves the table wide;His master calls his soul, but he’s nowhere to abide.Spring returns to the hills, with blooms so bright and fair,Yet master and disciple are parted, one in heaven, one elsewhere.