Transmigrating as the Younger Sister of a Bigshot with Multiple Identities - Chapter 5

You know what’s great? Turning eighteen.You know what’s not so great? Opening your eyes to a room you don’t know, followed by the world's most intense headache.This is how my story started. Where it goes from here is anyone's guess.---This is a Pokemon fanfic about a girl that gets brought into the Pokemon world from Earth.---This is my first time writing a fanfic so take it easy. Helpful criticism is appreciated and I may ask for suggestions but in the end I am writing this because I want to. I'm not sure what tags and genre will encompass this story but I will update it as it evolves.

Stands in front of you,The overseer and protector of darkness,The disruptor and reinventor of order,The creator and persecutor of sycophants,The hidden actress queen, the goddess of the night, the nightmare of Gods and their gravedigger,The True Ancestor of Blood—Charlotte de Castell.Accompanied by madness, born from blood, hand in hand with curses, walking alongside destruction.This is a tale belonging to the Bloodborne…

As the mad researcher in a tattered white coat activated the self-destruction device, Qin Luo knew that this time, there was no escape.

He was well aware of the destructive power of the self-destruction device.
Even if he is genetically inborn with an independent space, it is impossible to use the power of his space to resolve against such a terrible explosion.

His only end would be a torn space and the crushed bones.

On an unrecognizable earth rampant with zombies and mutant creatures, this end is good.

Death is far better than living…

With a skull splitting headache he opened his eyes to find himself reborn in the year before the apocalypse happened.

Is this a joke!!!
Is this a chance for him to be prepared to combat the apocalypse?
Is God not satisfied with all the bitterness he had went through and would enjoy watching him suffer once more?

- Description from Novelupdates

In a world of shallow-minded, materialistic mortals, what would one from humble beginnings – whose face had been stomped on, spat on, oppressed for the longest while by the arrogant, pampered upper echelons of society – do, when a mysterious application pops up on a brand new phone that was meant to be the birthday gift of an ungrateful girlfriend? What if the application takes the form of a chatroom where its occupants, bearing the names of mythical, fictional beings, start giving out ‘Red Packets’, all the while spouting nonsense?