Former Interstellar Mercenary In Urban Cultivation World - Chapter 9: Artificer (Part 2)

Layton just wanted a weekend alone in the wilderness. Instead, he woke up in a nightmare.Earth has been inducted into a multiversal system, and survival is no longer guaranteed. Forced into a brutal wave dungeon with no warning, no tutorial, and no gear, Layton accidentally locks himself into the weakest class—Healer.That’s when things start feeling… off.He’s leveling way too fast. His so-called “support” class? Feels anything but weak. And his only ally? A too-intelligent, bloodthirsty predator that might be more than just an animal.Something is wrong with this system. Layton just has to survive long enough to figure out what.

The thousand-year-old Imperium is crumbling, and war looms on the horizon, bringing with it both brutalities and splendor. Caught in the midst of this chaos is Lansius, an office grunt and veteran MMO player who has been transformed into a medieval peasant. With no wealth, status, or magical abilities, and armed only with his basic knowledge of the art of war, can he endure and thrive in this realistic medieval fantasy realm?Follow Lansius as he moves from one occupation to another, striving to survive during these turbulent times.

I once believed I was the heroine of a modern fairytale, blessed with beauty, wealth, intelligence, and a powerful legacy. Men adored me, women envied me, and I was engaged to the most desirable man, Cole Fay. My life seemed perfect, a dream where I held the starring role. But on my eighteenth birthday, that illusion crumbled. The truth hit me hard: I wasn’t the protagonist, nor even the villain or a side character. I was just cannon fodder, a disposable part of someone else’s story. But when fate recognized the cruel joke of my life, I was granted a second chance. This time, I’ll write my own story, living for myself. And this time . . . I will never love you again.

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.