The Evil God Beyond the Smartphone - Chapter 135: Fall of the Hero (4)

“This twisted world needs to be reset. That's what V2 is for!”-------------------------------------------------------------Waking up only to find that she's reincarnated into a world very reminiscing of a game that she used to play, Yuki is suddenly thrust into a worldwide conflict. To ensure the longevity of her newfound motherland, Yuki will have no choice but to flip this war upside down. If only to finally has some closure for past life also.So buckle up, strap your helmet tight, and keep your rifle loaded and on safe. This is not your bog-standard story about overpowered characters on a battlefield, no. This is a story about warfare in all its bloodied glory, the leader that calls the shot, the soldiers that execute them, and the nation that's backing them up. And along the way, sprinkle those a healthy dose of beautiful maidens, lily/futa romances, and build a harem.This is not gonna be a quick and decisive run, no. We're in this one for the long haul. Hail, Ironblood!

{NO SMUT}Noa lost his virginity to the Doom God and transmigrated into a game he had played for over ten years.Instead of being the protagonist, he found himself as an extra—a mere background character, fated to die before even making an appearance.To make matters worse, the game’s main character was also an extra who had read the novel about this world.However, Noa's power came after having sex with the Doom God, her blessing granting him 1,000 lives.And armed with 10 years of gaming experience, he was set on changing his future.Though Noa had 1,000 lives to spare, dying over and over had a price…The system was cruel, issuing his existence to every corner of Velrox and slapping a sweet bounty on his head.Suddenly, everyone in the world became interested in his identity, wanting him dead.With enemies on every side, Noa not only intended to screw up the plot, but he also had to survive the impending perils, as the world was set to be destroyed in five years…

The protracted ’witch hunting’ had faded into silence with the end of the Seven Years’ War, and the mysteries of the East Coast had begun to conceal themselves, yet gunpowder was on a rapid rise. Mo Qishang, who should have been utterly confounded, stood at the crossroads of destiny in the name of Arthur. He stared in astonishment at the charging knights, the wizards atop the high towers, and the bizarre wilderness. He felt the sharpness of the longsword and the recoil of the firearm, both clear and unfamiliar. At last, he excitedly shook his robe and, with a smile on his face, said— “Do not believe what I say, for to believe is to exist!”