MTL - Blackstone Code - ~ two thousand zero eighty

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.

While looking forward to his new life, he died again.

And so began his 151,897,914th life as Samur Eckart.

Samur is a Professional Transmigrator- or so he says so, as he gets transmigrated into a new world every time he dies.

However, each time, his memories return only moments before his death. If he successfully survives, he gets to live that life, if he dies, well, he just moves on to his next moment of death.

Once again on the verge of death as Samur, he’s saved at the last moment by a young boy.

Surprise, surprise, the young boy is a Regressor.

As a man of honour, Samur intends to repay his debt then leave because the world is too inconvenient to live in.

Well, that’s what he thought, at least, but the Regressor and his friends are kind of… weird, and he can’t seem to get away at all?

However, not everything is as it seems. Samur’s whims have made him the part of an eternal lie.

Shadows dance in glee as they concoct a requiem far grander than anyone can imagine, while the Lights tremble in delight as the apocalypse threatens the Universe.

The dies have been cast, the play has been written, the characters are on the stage, and the sacrifices have been made.

And so, it’s finally time to let this game begin.

My name is Lin Luoqing. Today, I transmigrated into a book but I’m not panicked at all. It is because I know the direction of this book very well. I can definitely use the plot advantage to reach the peak of my life and become a winner in life!

Hey, what is with that child over there who is peeking at me? How did he show up at my house? He is looking at me with three parts sadness, five parts dissatisfaction and two parts complicated.

- Description from Novelupdates

One day, in front of my eyes appeared a silver-haired Goddess.

What kind of bullsh*t is this woman spouting?

“…What?”

No, I’m not.

A rookie clerk asked his senior curiously: I heard our President is already married?