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... nd the stone that reached his hand was full of cold ice.

"Smelly woman!" Tiki tried hard to make a sly expression, but after the half face was petrified, the muscles on his face didn't listen at all, so his expression at the moment looked very weird, which made him more and more Annoyed, yelling at Poya Hancock: "You want to die!?"

However, Poyahan Cook has already said nothing, pulling a pink heart from the palm of his hand, the other hand holding the heart of the peach and pullin ...

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Is Magic really just a wish machine? No! In a universe where Magic truly exists, the ultimate nature of Magic must be as simple and aesthetically pleasing as the laws of physics. This is the story of a mass-produced magical war tool who learned the ultimate nature of Magic. But what of it? Just as birds can fly without understanding aerodynamics, magicians can use Magic without grasping its ultimate nature. Learning the ultimate nature of Magic doesn’t mean the tool can instantly transform into a great magician. But yearning for knowledge is a human instinct, and curiosity is the primary driving force of human civilization. Even for Magic, which should seemingly defy explanation, humans hope to understand its inherent operational laws. The pursuit of Magic’s ultimate nature requires no reason! The story in this book takes place in an era where steel and gunpowder dance together. Here, firearms are on the rise; armor remains the main character; military theory is changing rapidly, with endless innovations in systems and techniques. And this world has something more than ours: Magic. The world is undergoing a profound transformation, and no one can remain detached from it...

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My name is Yan, and since I was a child, I’ve been able to see some strange things.For example—In elementary school, our new neighbor Aunt Tan had a pair of all-around genius twins, who were like the “precious little geniuses” with halos above their heads. They could recite the English-Chinese dictionary backwards at three, master both Chinese and Western musical instruments by five, and hack into a country’s database by seven…Growing up next to such prodigies, my life was inhumane, tragic, and constantly subjected to comparisons.To escape the comparisons with these “other people’s children,” I specifically applied to a private boarding school for middle school.On my first day, my deskmate was a small, thin girl with bangs, wearing an old uniform, and her voice was as faint as a mosquito’s.Three months later, she woke up from a nap with a “rebirth” halo above her head.She moved effortlessly among the cold academic genius, the wolf-like school bully, the fierce boss, and the gentle childhood friend, leaving me, a lonely onlooker, utterly amazed.By university, I thought I had finally escaped this abnormal world.But as soon as I stepped into my dorm room, my footsteps froze.My roommates each had halos like “ancient times to modern,” “post-apocalyptic superhuman,” “will die if not spending money,” and “ghost king revival.”I clutched my little blanket and applied to the counselor for a room change, but to no avail.Over time, I gradually got used to it. “Handover systems,” “management systems,” “book transmigration,” “infinite worlds,” “three-and-a-half-year-olds,” “interstellar live streams,” “red envelope groups”…The types of halos kept increasing, and I was able to calmly ignore all of it, focusing on my own life.Every morning, I skillfully helped my “ancient to modern” roommate, who was being blacklisted online, dodge campus paparazzi and secure seats for class.At noon, I assisted my tycoon roommate in distributing today’s haul of luxury skincare and designer bags, tasting the city’s top private chef’s custom lunchbox, and exclaiming with emotion, “Darling, can I really accept these?”In the evening, I enjoyed the flowers and plants cultivated by my superhuman roommate on the balcony, tasting a mutated cherry tomato and commenting, “I feel refreshed and purified.”Late at night, when my ghost king roommate quietly climbed back through the window, I peeked out to ask, “You’re back a bit late today, didn’t bring anything back, did you?”My name is Yan, and I am not the protagonist of this world.

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Ruan Jiu Jiu: Who said that he’s an idiot? Who said that he’s frigid? You’re trolling (╯‵□′)╯︵┻━┻

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- Description from Novelupdates