Using entries to cultivate immortality in chaotic times - Chapter 422 - 173: "One must use their own life to uphold the teacher’s prestige."_5

Suo Fei, a veteran NEET has spent three-days and three nights strategizing his way through the highly explicit H danmei game masterpiece “Yalance”. Furthermore, he was able to capture all nine little shous from the nine great races. However, as the final, 10P feast was approaching, he unexpectedly transmigrated. He transmigrated into the real country of Yalance…

Suo Fei: Hey, hey, hey, can you delete these files and let me restart? What the hell did Laozi transmigrate into!

- Description from Novelupdates

I transmigrated into the gacha game I abandoned for 10 years.But, the state of the heroes I raised is strange.

The world froze.Literally froze. The chattering students, the falling cherry blossoms outside the window, even the dust motes in the air – all suspended in perfect stillness.“Oh wonderful hero,” a melodious voice echoed through the room. “Your world faces a terrible crisis, and you have been chosen to—”“No,” he said flatly.A pause. Then a shimmer of golden light coalesced into the form of a beautiful woman in flowing robes. She blinked at him. “I... what?”“I said no. I'm not interested in whatever quest or destiny you're selling. Pick someone else.”The goddess's perfect features creased in confusion. “But... but you've been chosen! The prophecy speaks of a warrior with a fierce spirit, one who—”“Lady, I don't care about your prophecy. I've got enough problems here without adding some fantasy world's issues to the mix. Now un-freeze time and leave me alone.”“You don't understand,” she pressed. “Our world is being ravaged by the Demon King's armies! Millions will die without—”

[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.