Game of the Monarch - Chapter 167: Hope of the Future (4)

“Reincarnated as an extra destined to die? Hell no! I’ll rewrite this story myself!”Charles was just a college student addicted to video games, pulling all-nighters and barely passing his exams… until he woke up as Rian Cole, the most despised member of a powerful clan. A background character. A loser. But above all…A dead man walking with an expiration date.In the original story, Rian Cole was born with uncontrollable lightning powers. He was shunned, abused, and ultimately thrown away as cannon fodder to buy time for the clan leader fighting against the hero.But Charles has no intention of playing that role.Armed with his gaming knowledge and an unbreakable stubbornness, Charles will forge his own path—even if it means defying fate, breaking this world’s rules, and shocking everyone who ever looked down on him.No system. No cheats. And Rian’s body doesn’t always do what he wants.And worst of all… the girls in this world are insane!

I ended up transmigrating as a third-rate extra in a game I like, but worst of all this character has already fallen and been disowned.

I have no ambitions. I just want to graduate, but the world won’t let me.

In her previous life, she loved a prince who didn’t love her back. She was framed and her heart was torn out. After rebirth, she wanted to live unrestrainedly, but accidentally married Ling Chen, the Fourth Prince who was calculating, manipulative, and had bad reputation.

Conspiracy, hypocrisy, greed, framing, blackmail, she took them all one by one. Getting a big payoff for a small effort, love is like a sharp knife!

Lan Ling: Why did Wangye climb over the wall and come to my room?
Ling Chen: Why do you think I’m here?
Lan Ling: Does Wangye likes climbing to someone else’s bed in the middle of the night?
Ling Chen: Presumptuous! How is this someone else’s bed?

- Description from Novelupdates

Epic fantasy presence: Ashes Of The First Tyrant [AOTFT]Prologue – The Law of AuraThey say every soul burns.Some flare brightly and fade. Others smolder quietly for a lifetime.But a rare few, rare beyond reason ignite with such intensity that the world bends to them. These are not gods. Not yet.These are the Tyrants.And their aura is not a gift.It is a weight a burden.In this world, aura is everything.It is the breath behind a sword strike, the pressure behind a command, the silent will that can crush or inspire. Most are born with it. Few master it.But only one…only one in an ageawakens the Tyrant’s Spirit…the aura that dominates not by force, but by presence alone.