Divine Emperor of Death - Chapter 1: Prologue

“The host has come to the days of your old pretending.”

Chen Mo was stunned for a moment, and put down the polished Shiwang drive in his hand.

“It’s time.”

After finishing speaking, Chen Mo came to an empty square, took out the divine light stick and shouted loudly: “Dija!”

…

Yukino Yukino: “My turn, draw a card!”

Kasumi Hill Shiyu: “theworld!”

Eri Sawamura: “Henshin!”

Kaguya Shinomiya: “This is an equivalent exchange!”

Kato Megumi: “Walking in the dark, serving the light, everything is empty, everything is allowed!”

…

Why is the flower of the high mountain of the academy addicted to playing cards? Why did famous fiction writers twist in strange poses? Why are famous painters in the industry inseparable from toys? Why do rich daughters believe in alchemy? Why do ordinary passers-by wear cloaks?

And why did Yangyang Huaxia frequently appear in the Xiuxian sect?

Looking at this gradually becoming strange world, Chen Mo said that all this has nothing to do with him.

- Description from novelbuddy

I always had a question...“If an author created the world with words, but it came alive in the reader's mind, who truly owned the story–the one who built it, or the one who believed in it?”Will I finally get the answer?...A world that wasn't supposed to exist.A life that held no meaning.Why was I here?Inside a novel, inside the body of someone I wasn't supposed to be in, and... A world that made me question my existence at every step I took.What was my destiny?

One day, a villainess came to the orphanage.“I absolutely can’t stand children!”“How can someone my age have a child? It doesn’t make sense!”“What’s so great about these little creatures that tire you out all day long…”Setting aside her dislike for children…Somehow, after she arrived, the children started gaining weight.“It’s all because of the contract, you know?”That’s what she says.While personally feeding them sweets she made herself.

She died in her prime as the Queen of Song.

After being reincarnated, she becomes a simple trainee.

Losing her former glory? It doesn’t matter—no one can compete with her voice as a beautiful singer.

Mocked by her lowly birth? It doesn’t matter—her true identity is enough to make the whole world tremble.

She owes huge debts? It doesn’t matter…

A powerful boss once whispered to her, “Your debt will disappear if you become my woman.”

But the proud her would reply, “I’m sorry. I would sell my art, but not myself.”