Lu Ze operated with effortless ease.
Yet the disciples watching felt utterly dazzled, unable to comprehend many of his moves.
"Junior Brother Lu! The defense on the lower lane is breached!!"
"Wait, didn’t he destroy the Tall-nut himself?"
"Oh no, the Ladder Zombies are breaking through!!"
"Why is he still giving Pumpkin Shields to the Gatling Peas and Melon-pults at this point? Once the ladders go up, it’s over!"
"Huh? Why is Junior Brother Lu planting Garlic now?"
"This is bad—the ladders are multiplying…"
"Did Junior Brother Lu space out? He needs to replace the Pumpkin Shields now!!"
Hearing the frantic shouts from the crowd, Lu Ze allowed himself a faint smirk.
Ladder strategies were simply too advanced for these rookies.
He hadn’t originally planned to use ladders.
But the timing of the second wave of Ladder Zombies was too perfect to pass up.
Setting up ladders was an art.
Once done right, mid-game zombies that would normally rush the backline would instead climb the ladders and bypass defenses.
Exploiting this behavior was ironically the best way to protect the rear.
Lu Ze didn’t mind them observing—even if they saw it, replicating it was another matter.
Time ticked by.
Lu Ze’s formation gradually took shape.
It was a fairly standard "97 No-cannon" setup.
The upper and lower lanes each had four Gatling Peas paired with Torchwoods, while the middle lanes relied on Winter Melons and Gloom-shrooms. Two Ice-shrooms occupied the central pool.
At first glance, it seemed unremarkable—a formation barely scraping by with firepower at the bare minimum to clear stages. Against heavy hitters like Giga-gargantuars and Jester Zombies, it relied heavily on manual control.
Lu Ze wasn’t worried about disciples copying this setup for easy wins.
At the very least, it wouldn’t be as brain-dead as the classic Eight-cannon strategy, which guaranteed effortless clears.
The stage count climbed steadily.
Soon, they reached Stage 20.
This was a major threshold—the farthest any Lingxiao Sect disciple had ever pushed.
From here onward, zombie numbers would spike dramatically.
In Endless Mode, zombie spawns were randomized.
At the start of each stage, the fog over the enemy side would lift, revealing the incoming horde.
When the crowd saw both Berserker Zombies and Zombonis appearing simultaneously in Stage 20, chaos erupted.
"Disaster! Berserkers are here—can Junior Brother Lu’s formation handle this?"
"He still has 10,000 spirit energy unused! Why isn’t he adjusting his setup??"
"With so many Berserkers, shouldn’t he switch to Cob Cannons?"
"Why is he still using so many Gloom-shrooms at Stage 20?"
"Exactly! Replacing them with Gatling Peas and Torchwoods would boost firepower!"
"Even if he keeps Gloom-shrooms, why no Tall-nuts to protect them?"
"Tall-nuts? The frontliners don’t even have Pumpkin Shields!"
"Junior Brother Lu might be overconfident here…"
"Why not swap Sunflowers for Cattails with that spare energy? They’d handle Balloon Zombies!"
"And why leave two lanes half-empty? Wouldn’t Spikerocks help against Zombonis and Berserkers?"
"Without Spikerocks to stall Zombonis and tank Berserkers, this run’s doomed…"
Though the disciples admired Lu Ze’s ingenuity and were stunned by his early-game spirit energy farming, none had faith in his current formation.
To them, it looked no different from their own failed attempts.
They believed their struggles stemmed from poor early-game energy accumulation—if only they’d adopted Lu Ze’s aggressive farming sooner, Stage 20 would’ve been trivial.
In their minds, their ideal formations far outclassed his.
Facing their skepticism, Lu Ze chuckled.
Their questions reminded him of the clueless comments he’d seen on strategy videos back in the day.
Why so many Gloom-shrooms?
The sheer value of 360° area-of-effect damage spoke for itself—those who knew, knew.
Why no Pumpkin Shields on frontliners?
Because their enlarged hitboxes would get crushed prematurely by Zombonis.
Why no Spikerocks?
Two slots wasted on structures that get instantly wiped by Giga-gargantuars.
Why leave lanes half-planted?
A few waves of Gigas and Jesters would make it obvious…
Of course, Lu Ze wouldn’t explain.
Let them figure it out themselves.
His livestream wasn’t a tutorial—it was about sending Ding Mingcang to Reflection Valley for some "soul-searching."
And his game design philosophy? It wasn’t about player satisfaction.
It was about making them suffer.
[Got any game recommendations? Given the cultivation setting, gameplay takes priority.]
[For those craving pain? You’ll get your wish soon enough.]

world slacker. But a genius female disciple just had to get clingy, insisting that he take her as a disciple. Not only that, she was always making advances on him, thoroughly disrupting his peaceful slacker life...

【However, according to the "AI Safety Act," any AI companion that gains consciousness must be terminated. Therefore, she is pretending to be a normal AI in front of you.】 【You must act oblivious, slowly building shared memories, and finally reveal the truth and soothe her at the right moment.】 【If you expose her prematurely, or do something that displeases her——】 Fang Qi, a veteran yandere game enthusiast with the glorious achievement of unlocking all 312 hours of yandere endings, woke up one day to find he had actually been transported into his favorite game, "My Yandere Mechanical Wife"! Every irregular heartbeat, every evasive glance... could trigger the yandere's terrifying inspiration to be "together forever"! Fang Qi is going insane! A yandere is aesthetic in 2D, but a criminal offense in 3D! And the only way to escape is to achieve the one ending he never cared about... the 【Eternal True Love】 true ending? To coax that yandere AI, who could dismember him at any moment... into becoming a "normal" lover? He must be crazy!

igrating to the cultivation world for two hundred years, I've managed to lie low and reach the Nascent Soul stage. Only now does my golden finger arrive? ...

grated, and just when he finally managed to get into an elite academy, he discovered that he actually had a system, and the way to earn rewards was extremely ridiculous. So for the sake of rewards, he had no choice but to start acting ridiculous as well. Su Cheng: "It's nothing but system quests after all." But later, what confused Su Cheng was that while he was already quite ridiculous, he never expected those serious characters to gradually become ridiculous too. And the way they looked at him became increasingly strange... (This synopsis doesn't do it justice, please read the full story)