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... es than water.

“Cough… Cough…”

Struggling to catch his breath, Ronan lifted his head. The once chaotic battlefield now lay silent, with only the sound of rain filling the air.

As his gaze widened, the landscape before him seemed like a scene transferred from hell itself.

The wasteland stretching to the horizon was mostly covered in a charred, reddish hue. It was the color of blood mixed with mud.

Upon the sticky ground were scattered fragments that had once composed ...

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Would being picked by a glorified universal abductor calling itself a system bring something out of him?

Would he finally learn to breathe in the pool of blood that suffocated him? The Harvester does not sow, he only collects.

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A Professional Transmigrator meets a newbie Regressor.

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He lived an average, fulfilling life and died of old age. The next moment, he opened his eyes as the Princess of Asmaria.

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As soon as I opened my eyes, I had a thrilling caesarean section.

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