MTL - I’m Driving An RV In the Doomsday - Chapter 13 mutated blood red crystal

In an exhilarating twist of fate, Jiang Chen traverse into a fantasy realm novel he read, taking on the role of the notorious Holy Son in a riveting tale. But here’s the catch – he’s pegged as the female lead’s obedient doglicker. Or so the story initially wanted…Unleashing the ‘Slack Off System’, Jiang Chen flips the script! Each act of slacking off spectacularly rewards him. Doglicking duties? Jiang Chen smirks at the thought. “Not in a million realms,” he declares.As the system chimes melodically, rewards rain down like immortal gifts:Ding, for successfully slacking off, you receive: the Emperor Weapon, All-Heaven Mirror!’Ding, another round of slacking off earns you: the Immortal Technique, Great Daluo Heaven!’Ding, for successfully slacking off you received: Immortal Emperor Cultivation!’But wait, there’s a twist in the tale! The world around Jiang Chen starts to unravel in the most unexpected ways.The character settings of the female leads have all collapsed.Junior Sister Ye Qingcheng: ‘I can only repay your life-saving grace with my body!’Cold and aloof master: ‘Disciple, I allow you to defy your master.’

Who, in the ancient mythology, held an artifact and killed the first emperor of the human race?

Who, at the beginning of ancient times, closed the gate of the God Realm, Jedi Tiantong?

Who set a lifespan limit of only one hundred and thirty years for the people, and even the Great Emperor was not spared?

Who, turned into a black hand that covers the sky for eternity, shrouded the world?

…

Yang Shou on Earth: “Yes, yes, I did it all, I just want to live.”

- Description from novelbuddy

Untolerated by heaven, a boy was restricted by the most powerful spell.

He accidentally acquired a painting inhabited by nine souls that claimed to be immortal.

Then, the legend of a strong young man who violated heavenly principles against the course of nature began.

- Description from Novelupdates

The protracted ’witch hunting’ had faded into silence with the end of the Seven Years’ War, and the mysteries of the East Coast had begun to conceal themselves, yet gunpowder was on a rapid rise. Mo Qishang, who should have been utterly confounded, stood at the crossroads of destiny in the name of Arthur. He stared in astonishment at the charging knights, the wizards atop the high towers, and the bizarre wilderness. He felt the sharpness of the longsword and the recoil of the firearm, both clear and unfamiliar. At last, he excitedly shook his robe and, with a smile on his face, said— “Do not believe what I say, for to believe is to exist!”