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... ahead, coming into the view of the students who stood below the arena.

He looked at the students while saying, “The rules of the tournament are simple. First off, this tournament doesn’t allow the use of artifacts, magical to higher stage weapons, and other external items. That’s to say, one can use weapons with no additional and special effects. Secondly, you’re not allowed to kill your opponents. Weapons have no eyes, and injuring someone in a fight is normal, but I warn you to contro ...

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Mob Protagonist ~ Mob in the Novel But There is a ProblemChapter 380.2: Short Story. Everyday Life At The Café
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I have been reincarnated as a mob. Isn’t that usually how it starts, right? But this development feels a little strange, doesn’t it? Most people would be sad to be a mob, but then they end up having a significant role and overshadowing the protagonist. Well, that’s only natural. After all, I know the story and work hard from the beginning, so it’s only natural that I excel.

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Elia is a poor university student until the night she’s taken to the world of the Anima—ruled by humans whose ancient hearts pulse with the blood of animals. There she’s forced into a battle to the death. But when Elia survives, and refuses to kill her final opponent, the King must either kill Elia himself, or take her as his mate.

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He stalked towards her, chin low so the shadow cast by his hard jaw cut across the thick fur collar of his vest. His hair had fallen over his eyes in the scuffle, so he peered at her through it like a lion in the grass. With each step, his graceful, rolling gait reminded her of a predator stalking its prey. Despite the forest floor littered in twigs and leaves, he didn’t make a sound.

“Wh-who are you?” Elia stammered, backing away, her hands up. He met her step for step until she came up hard against the tree behind her—and didn’t stop until he loomed over her, so broad his shoulders and chest made a wall in front of her. She could feel the heat rising off his skin in the cool, night air.

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“Elia,” she breathed.

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Elia swallowed as he leaned in until the scruff on his jaw rasped her cheek. “I am the King,” he said, “And you will be my mate.”

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