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... biting into his skin. His breath came slow, controlled—too controlled. A practiced veneer of calm, masking the storm raging beneath.

’Kill them.’

The thought slithered through his mind, dark and commanding, coiling tighter around the burning embers of his fury. These wretches. These pathetic creatures who dared to invoke his father’s name as if it held any worth. As if the man they worshiped had been anything but a failure.

’Destroy them all.’

The firelight flick ...

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“Host, what did you do, why are they lying on the ground?”

“They want to touch the pitiful me! They want to blackmail me! They want my little money!”

System: It turns out that the host is a weak chicken. It has to protect the host well then.

“Host, the palace treasury is too big, we can’t carry it, let’s forget it.”

Who knew that when it turned around, everything was gone.

“Host, why is the treasury missing?”

Shang Ling acted cute and pointed to the golds, silvers and jewellery in the space pocket, “Look, they didn’t just go out by themselves.”

System: I believed you!

“Ah, that’s not right, host, since when did you have a space pocket?”

“Always have, you just never ask me.”

System: So the clown here is me.

“Host, when did you have a photographic memory.”

“I always have it, you don’t?”

System: I am not worthy.

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“Host, are you okay with this?”

Shang Ling dug the hole vigorously and kicked the male lead into the coffin in the pit.

“Men will only affect my progress of getting rich.”

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His admiration for the paragon of the high elf race turned into hatred when he got some damning knowledge about why demons kept attacking his home and looting the sacred tree of life. His hatred for the realm lord turned to self-hatred for his weakness and mediocrity.

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