Minute Mage: A Time-Traveling LitRPG - Chapter 4: Field Test

[Disclaimer: Gore and Mature Content]Kaiser, an orphan, had left Germany to live with his uncle in Lewis Center, USA. Far from his tragic childhood, he befriended five unconventional boys. Together, they hung out, endured boring classes, and faced rejection from girls. Their ordinary lives took a drastic turn when Ben, one of them, was bitten and turned into a vampire by his crush.The revelations kept coming when Yuki, another member of the group, confessed to being a Zodiac—one of the last hunters tracking down Wunders, malevolent supernatural creatures.Kaiser soon discovered a dark world where all his suspicions turned out to be true… And the Mysterienkult was after him. His mother’s tragic death had not been an accident after all.

I Will Live as an Actor is a heartwarming story of a young man who grows up poor as the son of a widowed fishmonger.Fueled by a passion for acting, he neglects his mother and her sacrifices, only to regret it when she passes away.In a twist of fate, he is reincarnated back to his youth, just before he went down the wrong path.Determined to live a better life and honor his mother’s memory, he embarks on a journey to become a successful actor while also being a filial son.

‘Royal Roader,’ the game that I ruled as an overlord was ending its service. Shit! It was my life’s only pleasure.

The last day! I used all of my strength and in-game connections to defeat the final boss monster, Demon Heros.

As a reward, I earned a Marble of Wishes.[Please state your wish.]My wish? [Royal Roader’s renewal as reality.]I was just joking. I really only wrote it as a joke…

What happens when, in the midst of struggling to keep up with life, you suddenly discover that you were a princess in a past life? Now, you're just a waitress with a drunken mother and a pile of bills to pay. But deep down, you know one thing: you’ll find the stupid jerk responsible for ending your royal life, no matter what it takes.Alexia POV:Then there are the spoiled, narcissistic rich jerks who think their daddy's car gives them a free pass to treat women like objects. Not today, Satan. These guys are like walking perfume ads with egos bigger than their bank accounts. I swear, they should just marry themselves—they're clearly their own type.When one of those jerks lands at my table, I can smell the entitlement from a mile away. I don't even wait for the inevitable sleazy pickup line or the “accidental” brush of their hand against mine. Nope. I pawn them off on one of the other waiters faster than you can say “unpaid rent.”