Fantasy

All Raiden wanted to do was to farm quietly.

After dying in his old world and waking up in the body of a freshly graduated nobody in a world full of monsters that are bigger than the tallest skyscrapers, Raiden made a quick, sensible decision: avoiding danger at all costs.

Forget becoming a battle master and monster-infested frontiers, he just wanted to take his little sister Sylvia and retire to their inherited farm to raise sheep.

Peaceful, profitable, and most importantly, safe.

His master plan? Buy the cheapest Woolie in the market, shear its wool, and live off the profits. Simple, right? What could go wrong?

As Murphy's Law states, anything that can go wrong will go wrong.

The moment he brought his adorable sheep, his cheat system activated, letting him appraise and improve the potential of anything he touched. And everything started going downhill from there.

A few enhancements later, his Woolie is producing luxury wool that has fashion designers losing their minds. And unlike other sheep, this one loved to train and battle, so much that it loses half of it before the sell period.

“It's fine,” Raiden assured himself. “It's just a sheep. A very profitable sheep.”

Then it evolves. And keeps evolving. And suddenly his “harmless farm animal” is creating thunderclouds that can destroy a whole continent.

He thought the problem was only with his sheep; the rest of the Terra beasts would be peaceful.

The real problem, though? Every Terran he rescues thinks the same way: “Master is so kind! He doesn't force us to battle! We must train extra hard to protect him!”

Now, all his supposedly peaceful, peace-loving Terrans are challenging wild Terrans to duels while he chucks pills to control his Blood Pressure in the background.

His genius little sister is landing scholarships left and right, and the Continental Alliance won't stop sending him tournament invitations he desperately wants to decline.

All Raiden wants is to farm in peace, pay off his debts, and maybe—just maybe survive long enough to see Sylvia graduate.

Is that really too much to ask?

Apparently, yes.