A Gunslinger's System in a World of Magic - Chapter 169: The Contraption (2)

Bibi Dong, once the powerful Supreme Pontiff, never expected to be reborn—especially not as someone else's martial spirit. In this new life, she finds herself bound to a young soul master with great potential but little knowledge of the powerful spirit within him.As Bibi Dong guides her host, she must confront her past mistakes and figure out why she was given this second chance. Is it to correct her past, or is there something more at play?

Everyone says he is an iceberg, but only Maya Spencer knows he is a volcano, and moreover, a volcano that is passionately unlimited for her, an indulgently pampering volcano.

[I have led a cautious life, but the system keeps trying to do me in] “Ding Dong!” “Welcome to the Smart Cultivation System!”

“You have chosen to cultivate the Bone Forging Art. The system will start cultivating for you. The system has detected that the host is missing the Bone Tempering Pill. Please wait a moment…” “Ding Dong!”

“The system successfully stole ten Bone Tempering Pills for you, and the cultivation will continue…” “Important reminder, while the system is cultivating, you will lose lose control of the body…”

After getting the Smart Cultivation System, Pei Ling began to grow stronger rapidly. He was prepared to become a deity until one day… “Ding Dong!”

“You have chosen to cultivate an unknown technique. The system has identified this as a dual cultivation method. The system will start to cultivate for you. The system has detected that the host is missing a Dao Partner. The system is looking for a Dao Partner for you…” So, Pei Ling watched as he ran to the fairy’s training room next door, drugged her, and carried her into his room…

[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.