My Items Have an Upgrade Panel - Chapter 233 - : The Study Commitee Member Ranked First

No system, pure time travel, relying on intelligence and knowledge to control the situation, do not enter if you do not like it.-----------------------The protagonist travels to the Republic of France and becomes a quasi-rich third generation in a family of agricultural tractors.Unfortunately, it is near Paris. The Germans will soon come here, and to preserve the family, France must be saved.Gallieni: “God, the enemy actually presented their flank to us!”Xia Fei: “This can't be true, could it be a trap?”Protagonist: “The food is ready, go ahead, do I need to feed it to your mouth?”German Army: “Is this a tractor factory? What are these steel monsters that are impervious to knives and guns?”

When gods gather, lightning will strike and the earth will move. Immortals! Which of the numerous way to immortality should one follow? Immortals are hard to seek, but why should immortals hide? Heaven has no mercy, but humans have emotions, and these emotions hinder the road to longevity!

In the shadowed halls of the Nether Blossom Sect and the treacherous expanse of the cultivation world, mastery is a dance of power, lust, and betrayal.True enlightenment lies not in forcing the path, but in weaving ambition with desire until the cultivator becomes one with their schemes.Only when the line blurs between ally and enemy, pleasure and pain, does one glimpse the ruthless truth of the dao.Lin Fengyang, a spark in a realm of predators, forges his ascent through cunning and will.His enemies plot in whispers, their blades hidden in smiles, but he’ll carve his legend across sects, empires, and heavens, one step, one scheme, one conquest at a time.In this cultivation world, trust is a lie, and every touch is a gambit. He is the schemer of shadows, the breaker of chains, and the bane of those who underestimate him.Read now to witness a tale of dark cultivation, where ambition burns brighter than any flame.

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!”