When Shen Lang opened his eyes, he found himself to be cannon fodder at the very bottom of the dark world.

The greenskins roar, the ratmen dig burrows, the evil gods whisper, and humans are nothing more than trembling ants in the cracks.

But his eyes can see different things.

[Automatic attack mode activated!]

[Analysis: The soil beneath our feet contains 37% iron, making it suitable for smelting!]

[Warning: Chaos storm will arrive in 3 hours. Wall erosion resistance: 0%!]

While others prayed in fear, Shen Lang lit the first furnace amidst the ruins.

When cultists sacrificed flesh and blood to summon demons, he pierced their throats with a tempered steel spear.

When the war machine of the Greenskinned warlords rolled over the village, he ordered the villagers to teach them what it meant to "line up and shoot" with smoothbore cannons and barbed wire.

As the Tomb King's undead army engulfed the land, he set up a red-hot heavy Gatling gun, its ammunition roaring: "Times have changed!"

From a stone axe to a torrent of steel; from an earthen wall to an immortal fortress.

Shen Lang said, "I don't know magic, nor do I believe in gods. My faith is the sight of a flintlock musket, the piston of a steam engine, and the steel and fire that cover the battlefield!"

I transmigrated into the body of Mormont's disgraced son from *Game of Thrones*, only four years old, facing the ultimate judgment of the King in the North. Fortunately, my spatial ability can replicate everything. When the Duke of Stark stepped onto Bear Island, he didn't see the expected ruin and disgrace, but rather granaries full of food, brand-new swords, and a young master with calm eyes. "Your Excellency," he said, "the loyalty of Bear Island has always been proven by strength, not by kneeling."