Ghost in the City - Chapter 177

Zhang Deming has traversed, but why do other people traverse with their own system cheats, various lucky draws, bonus points, and experience from killing people.

Why is it just a code editing tool when I come to him, and everything has to be coded out by myself?

When he activated his golden finger, he saw the familiar code: if () {Cloud and Rain Technique cast successfully} else{Cast failed}

Zhang Deming breathed a sigh of relief. Fortunately, as a senior programmer who died on the overtime desk, Zhang Deming said that if you give me an editing tool, I can code a world.

No system? It doesn’t matter, he will knock it out, he wants to wholesale the system and be the man behind the system.

ps: This article is a semi-hard sci-fi sci-fi article with a sci-fi core in the skin of fairy tale fantasy.

There will be a lot of professional basic knowledge of programmers, if you can’t understand the relevant professional language.

Please move to the relevant work for help, or ask Du Niang, Google, or you can work hard to learn software engineering from now on.

- Description from novelbuddy

It was a useless ability, right till the very end. That’s what Shion thought as he was dying. Among all the tr*sh, it was the tr*shiest that could only record.

Even when the Libra family was taking his life, his ability, ‘Notepad’, could only record.

But then, with his return, the amplification of the Notepad occurred. Not only recording and storing, but also recalling memories.

All the conditions were prepared.

“My future dream is to be a guardian knight of Libra.”

Now, Shion is about to record their downfall from the closest place to his enemies.

I had finally done it—achieved the ultimate Paladin build. Maxed stats, impenetrable armor, and so many resistances that death itself had given up on me. I was an unkillable tank, an indomitable force. Nothing could stop me.And then my PC exploded.I died.Irony, thou art a cruel mistress.But instead of the afterlife, I woke up as my Paladin character… in the wrong freaking genre. Instead of castles and dungeons, there were people flying around on swords, shooting qi beams like fantasy laser guns.“This is definitely the wrong genre,” I muttered, watching a pompous young master sneer at me.“Kowtow, kiss my foot, and beg for forgiveness!” he declared.I looked at my imaginary maxed-out health bar, then at his flimsy silk robes.Oh, this was going to be fun.

Trying to hit on Shinobu mommy.