A Black Market LitRPG - Chapter 142: Battle of Tenar (1)

[Urban Martial Arts, Passionate Martial World.] He was a super expert who, due to accepting an inheritance, underwent a physical transformation that put his life at risk. To extend his life, the king returned...

Some people transmigrate into Emperors, others become wangye.

They live in luxury; their hands covering the Heavens.

Some people transmigrate into shizuns, or sect leaders.

They would have the respect of all, their powers supernatural.

Some unlucky souls become villains, but even with their terrible reputations they would still have enough power to summon rain from the sky, maybe even manage to kill off the protagonist.

But Li Changtian, a stand up young man from a good family, who died on the battlefield protecting someone, widened his eyes.

He! Transmigrated!

Into a person everyone wanted dead, with an unabsolvable crime!

Li Changtian: “??? Wait wait, did something go wrong somewhere?”

The magistrate of the Imperial Justice Bureau, Yan Shu, who hated injustice more than anything in the world had just stepped onto his head and said in an ice cold voice: “A life for a life.”

Li Changtian: “&%%%￥&￥#@”

- Description from Novelupdates

Sing the story, bard, of the Firebrand. He, the youth who saved Morcaster from ruin. He, the warrior who defeated an empire. He, the archmage who crossed the Netherworld...The tale of Martel the mage, from his humble beginnings as a hapless novice at a magic school. Slow, character-focused and light-hearted progression fantasy. Updates daily.

What happens when, in the midst of struggling to keep up with life, you suddenly discover that you were a princess in a past life? Now, you're just a waitress with a drunken mother and a pile of bills to pay. But deep down, you know one thing: you’ll find the stupid jerk responsible for ending your royal life, no matter what it takes.Alexia POV:Then there are the spoiled, narcissistic rich jerks who think their daddy's car gives them a free pass to treat women like objects. Not today, Satan. These guys are like walking perfume ads with egos bigger than their bank accounts. I swear, they should just marry themselves—they're clearly their own type.When one of those jerks lands at my table, I can smell the entitlement from a mile away. I don't even wait for the inevitable sleazy pickup line or the “accidental” brush of their hand against mine. Nope. I pawn them off on one of the other waiters faster than you can say “unpaid rent.”