Descent of the Demon Master - Chapter 920: Planning (5)

Special police officer Li Yu was reborn on the body of a little girl who was abused to death by her fiance’s family in Dayong Dynasty after saving people and sacrificed. Special police officer Li Yu was reborn as Li Yu in ancient times.

In my hometown, the former fiance’s family took back the property left by the original owner’s father, smashed and countered the murders of the Zhang family again and again, and rescued the scholar in the next village when he went hunting in the mountains.

When the wind and water came up, the sudden locust plague was followed by a disaster of war…

- Description from novelbuddy

“Please, I implore you to save the world.” This is what a goddess in white says to me in a pure-white space. Such is the standard line that suggests the game is about to begin. Please say this stirring line to boys and girls with sparkling eyes! It’s wrong to direct it to someone like me, who’s exhausted from job hunting! When I declined her politely, she flew into a fit of tears; when I agreed to assist her on small tasks out of reflex, she proclaimed: “it’ll be fine if you just help in the Starting-Village Arc. Please guide the Hero!” Then she tossed me into another world. No, this is a world modeled after a game that this gamer goddess likes…

Jin Rou wanted to be a cultivator who defied the heavens, and surpassed all limits.

Unfortunately for him, he died, and now I’m stuck here. Arrogant young masters? Heavenly tribulations? Cultivating for days on end, then getting into life or death battles?

Yeah, no thanks. I’m getting out of here.

In which a transmigrator decides that the only winning move is not to play.

What happens when a fanfic author with a habit of lying and scheming suddenly finds himself as a self insert during Duelist Kingdom? What happens when you have Yugi, Joey, Kaiba, and the rest encounter someone who knows all about every major player in their saga... and sees no problem with abusing said knowledge? Chaos, dear reader. Sweet, sweet chaos