MTL - Marvel’s Death Merchant - Chapter 6 Ape star licker

The cold star reflects the halberd, the moon shines on the bow, and the dragon bird and the snow are startled at night.

Outside of Qianshan, Banzhi’s fame is in the hometown of Yinhua Huoshu.

“I, Rong Taotao, will one day be the master of those nine stars.”

That year, a young man with a small schoolbag, a natural scroll on his head, and a Fang Tianhua halberd said this on the rooftop.

…

Easy and funny, welcome to the pit.

The work “Nine Stars Poisonous Milk” has been completed in 4 million words, and you are welcome to read it.

- Description from novelbuddy

MC: Whoa there, hang on a sec! Don't say anything yet, let me first trick this stupid goddess into giving me more abilities!Some time later (and some psychological abuse)…Aqua: Okay, you win! Pick your skills! And fast!MC: Alright, check this out! I'm snagging〚World Traveling〛and〚Analyze and Copy〛! Sweet deal, right? Hahaha, I'm gonna be unstoppable!

Jiang Yining was transmigrated to a cultivation world and became the master of the Tianyan Sect.

Unfortunately, the sect was broke and he only had three disciples. Just as everything was about to fall even further apart, he received the Golden Finger.

To make it even more interesting, the Golden Finger was an idle cultivation game that Jiang Yining had played in his previous world.

[Welcome back, long-time player. You will inherit your old account that has been idled for a million years.]

From the game, Jiang Yining could receive martial arts, resources, fates, buildings, skills, and even spiritual roots from checking in and completing quests.

He vowed that he would use the rewards to grow his own sect.

In the world of cultivation existed prestigious families, sects, kingdoms, and even celestial sects. Everyone’s goal was to ascend to a celestial being.

However, years later, Jiang Yining and his Tianyan Sect sat on the Long River and looked down at the people still struggling in the celestial realm.

In a world of shallow-minded, materialistic mortals, what would one from humble beginnings – whose face had been stomped on, spat on, oppressed for the longest while by the arrogant, pampered upper echelons of society – do, when a mysterious application pops up on a brand new phone that was meant to be the birthday gift of an ungrateful girlfriend? What if the application takes the form of a chatroom where its occupants, bearing the names of mythical, fictional beings, start giving out ‘Red Packets’, all the while spouting nonsense?