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Septimus Heap

Transmigrated into a Hermit type MC

Alexander was someone you may call a maniac. When people ignore bullies or maybe get bullied by them, he loves to offer them a UNO Reverse card. He would bully them. Then he somehow transmigrated into the cultivation world, where bullies exist at all types and all levels of society. Here he was taken off the morality shackles he had on Earth. Here he can bathe in the thrill of freedom to the extreme. But every story starts with some problem and this is about the previous transmigrator of the body he is currently in. Yes... "Transmigrator". The previous host of the body was a transmigrator who got transmigrated into this body but is a f**cking moron. The previous one, Jiang Hao, was a hermit. He was a coward. He would cultivate in secret and never show his powers to the world and would even let a weakling slander him. But he will tell himself that the world is dangerous and it's better to avoid trouble. But... he died. And he didn't even know how he died. But Alexander finds out that this man has been sitting on a gold mine that can make him powerful beyond belief. His system, when exploited by the loopholes, is so overwhelmingly powerful that it can answer any and all questions a person has. ------------ Original Novel: CULTIVATING IN SECRET BESIDE A DEMONESS. You.... yes you.... you know how painful it is right? ------------ When someone has been on WebNovel for some time and has read all the good novels there are, they will start to read garbage-level cultivation novels. I too am such a poor Daoist. After wandering in the heaps and heaps of garbage cultivation novels, I accidentally read a poison and felt like my brain cells were screaming at me in my mother tongue, to stop reading and just.... let go. And I did let go, but the amount of garbage written in that novel got to me every night, and I couldn't hold it in anymore and decided to write a novel, about how I would react if I had all the powers that piece of **** had. This is the result. A novel written to vent my soul out. ----------- This is a weak to strong type novel but the MC will not be a weak will individual, even in the first chapters. So there won't be any character development where the MC will go through troubles and harden his resolve. He was born a Chad. Period.
RefinedPoison · 18.7K Views

Transmigrated as an Instant Dinner with a Bonus!

Welcome to the enigmatic tale of Reinhart Glast, a warrior wrapped in a hard hat, hit by a storm of misfortune in his prime years. Threatened by Parkinson's Disease, his world crumbles into a heap of depression, pushing him to the edge of despair. As he contemplates death, life serves him a bittersweet twist - instead of oblivion, Reinhart's existence is whisked away to another realm, where he is plated as... an instant dinner? Fork your way through the unfathomable world of Fallenia, a simmering cauldron across dimensions, where the air stirs with magical energy known as Mana, and humanoid dragons, the Dralkons, color the sky. At the heart of this world lies the Roost of Grammel, where Queen Maze sits on the overheated throne, ensnared in a whirlwind of conspiracy and strife. With her kingdom on the razor's edge of chaos, the heat of politics blisters relentlessly. In the spice-ridden milieu of Maze's royal tribulations, our unlikely hero Reinhart appears, struggling to digest his peculiar fate. Their paths merge in an unusual mélange of destiny and dire need, as they bite into the thick crust of Fallenia's challenges. The epic adventure of this duo cooks up the central plot of our story, as they navigate the cauldron of deception, whip up alliances, and serve their enemies with defeat. "Transmigrated as a Magic Dinner with a Bonus!" invites you to a banquet of emotions steeped in serendipity, marinated in unpredictability, and peppered with danger. Side servings of robust courage and simmering hope accompany magical entrées, all garnished with a dose of humor that refreshes the narrative platter. It’s more than just a saga — it’s a lavish buffet for your imagination. Hold your spoon of anticipation and dive in, but be forewarned: this is a sizzling tale, likely to set your excitement aflame and tantalize your literary palate. Enjoy your meal!
Magic_ · 43.7K Views

GATTICAN DRIVE

Wealth. Fame. Authority. Power! For those brave enough to step onto the road to divinity to traverse the nine realms, all these and more are within reach, provided they have the luck, skill- "Wait, wait wait, What? The road to divinity is closed man, that's not what the story's about. Oh whoa, I get my words in quotes in the synopsis? Cozy." ...True. Then something more like.. In a city nearly consumed by anarchy, a piece of a treasure map left behind by a master thief silently vanishes from within a locked safe- "Nope." A mysterious stranger offers passage out of a dying realm to whoever wins an exceptionally dangerous race- "Stop, stop, I mean, yeah that happens, but you're doing it all wrong, my guy." Ok, then what do you suggest? "It's an action story." Sure. "The people came here for one thing:" ...Acti-? "BULLETS." Um, "So we give them Bullet points in the synopsis." There's not actually an option for bullet points on the websi- * Gun toting gnomes: CHECK * Gum chewing succubi: CHECK * Speech impediments: CHECK * Black Holes: CHECK * Skyships: CHECK * Gods: CHECK * Snails: CHECK * Teenagers: CHECK * Gas masks: CHECK * "You're courting death!": CHECK * Frog beastmen blood mages with off brand batmobiles: CHECK * The meaning of family: CHECK * Racist middle aged women: CHECK * Child abuse: CHECK * The apocalypse: CHECK * Literal waterfalls of bullet casings ejected from hot, steamy guns (in your area, sign up now!): CHECK * Some chick named Holliday: CHECK * Swearing in at least three(3) languages (build your vocabulary!): CHECK * Existential dread: CHECK * Heroes of destiny: CHECK * A flying motorcycle that can rewrite the laws of nature and ignore causality: CHECK * A good old heaping scoop of violence: CHECK "And that's just what we got in the first realm. We got a whole eight more to go! So suck your thumb and stick it in an electrical outlet baby, this is GATTICAN DRIVE!" A dark comedy/ action epic set in a science fantasy world about a reality-altering motorcycle and its riders, narrated by a cynical, irresponsible, immature and petty disembodied voice that’s more interested in turning the whole thing into a slice of life than in any of the plot I described above. Updates... when I stop freaking out about editing and avoiding plotholes. The narrator’s whims will inevitably cause the story to follow a giant, diverse cast, so romance and sexual content, if there ever is any, will probably involve LGBT+ characters as often as straight characters. Content can range from laughably happy go lucky to cry yourself to sleep tragic. This story is set in the same universe as my other story, Death Quest.
Dualbee · 12.1K Views

I Just Want Players to Save Money, They Insist on Giving Me!

Ke Jin transmigrated into an era where gaming was in utter chaos. Everyone here deeply believed in the notion of buying happiness with money, as game companies ran wild with various schemes to trick and force players to spend. As a game enthusiast from his past life, Ke Jin felt like he was in a world without sunlight. Luckily, he obtained the Free Game Production System! Players could get the ultimate reward of the "Complete Collection of All Game Design Schemes" without spending a single cent! Not spending money? How hard could that be? Heap on the benefits! Give away 50 consecutive draws during the summer heatwave! Give away 100 draws on the second day after the server opens! Due to the game reaching 50 daily active users, we are issuing a cool skin set originally priced at 999! The planner's niece just turned 17 years and three months plus 7 days old, so we're giving away 50,000 crystals! My sincerity is almost flooding the players. Surely nobody will spend now, right? Secretary: Mr. Ke, good news! Our newly launched game has just reached over a hundred million in daily transaction volume on its first day! Ke Jin: Huh? How is that good news... No, what about the other game? The one where we give full 100-99 discount vouchers upon starting, isn't its sales terrible? Looking puzzled, the secretary said while anticipating the boss's reaction: They've been shouting things like 'what a conscientious company' and 'if we don't spend, they'll go bankrupt,' so they just topped up. That game sold a whopping one hundred million copies globally. Congratulations on making a billion! "......" At 3:30 a.m., lying in bed, Ke Jin was wide awake, unable to sleep. He posted a status: Please, I beg you, stop spending. You guys are really making it hard for me... Player: Understood, Mr. Ke is hinting life is hard, brothers, let's step up! Charge it!
Chen Tang Resting on the Moon · 1M Views

To Sleep In The Sea Of Time

This is a story of a guy who loses everything, and then gets it back. Same old new world story, just a different kind of story teller. *** They took away our hunter tags. They had us grow our hair. They gave us a new brand, when we were over there. They staged us out of Dragur, East of the Olim Horn. I guess they call us Slaves, but no one calls us much anymore. There is no fun in killing. I don't want to do it anymore. Karn brought Sorrow. Pookie brought Fear. Milk brought the fly boys. They did work in Undia. I worked mostly clandestine. Some Legends I should not say. We played with better wands. I could use the extra pay. Did Mara give the order? Did venom pay the way? They said we were slaying demons, but it was kind of hard to tell. There is no fun in killing. I don't want to do it anymore. This was before HALO, and Codex was king. Hej atop the rider, he never felt a thing. When our rider caught a spell, and both the mages killed. It pitched us over sideways on some cold Sylph hill. My back felt like it was broken, my legs I could not feel. I kept on slaying demons, but it was kind of hard to tell. There is no fun in killing. I don't want to do it anymore. I never did heal up right from injuries sustained Officially in Torin, unofficially we train. I remember all their faces. They dream about me still. I guess I'm slaying demons, but it's kind of hard to tell. There no fun in killing. I don't want to do it anymore. I speak the cold logistic, that old boys speak so well. Veni, Vedi, Vici. I'll see you in Hel. Maybe it's bravado, or an unspeakable guilt. That village, they were demons, but it was kind of hard to tell. There is no fun in killing. I don't wanna to do it anymore. I've done plenty. What is one more? -Corb Lund *** Come guess me this riddle. What beats shire leaves and fiddle? What is hotter than pleasures touch, and whiter than cream? What best wets his whistle? What is clearer than crystal? What is sweeter than honey and stronger than steam? What will make the lame walk? What will make the dumb talk? What is the elixir of life and philosopher's stone? And what helped Pookie-Baba dig up a tunnel, that runs from Shalamanda to West-Torin? When you are digging a crater, It is the best thing in nature, for sinking your sorrows and raising your joys. Sometimes I wonder, if lightning and thunder, is made out of the plunder, of the reddest hiski and oils. *** If you can keep your head when all about you, are losing theirs and blaming it on you. If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you, but make allowance for their doubting too. If you can wait and not be tired by waiting, or being lied about, don’t deal in lies, or being hated, don’t give way to hating, And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise. If you can dream, and not make dreams your master. If you can think, and not make thoughts your aim. If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster, and treat those two impostors just the same. If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken, twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools, or watch the things you gave your life to, broken, and stoop and build them up with worn-out tools. If you can make one heap of all your winnings, and risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss and lose, and start again at your beginnings, and never breathe a word about your loss. If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew, to serve your turn long after they are gone, and so hold on when there is nothing in you; Except the Will which says to them ‘Hold on!’ If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue, nor walk with Kings, nor lose the common touch. If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you. If all men count with you, but none too much. If you can fill the unforgiving minute, with sixty seconds worth of distance, run. Yours is the World and everything that’s in it, and which is more you’ll be a Man, my son. - Rudyard Kipling
man_of_culture3030 · 670.1K Views
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