MTL - The Strongest Plane Becomes God - Chapter 455 : Swear to heaven

In a world where villains are crafted, not born, Vyan's life takes a detour from dull to downright dramatic faster than he can say “abracadabra.”Meet Vyan, the most ordinary knight in the realm, with all the magical prowess of a damp sock. Loyalty? He's got it in spades. Betrayal? Well, that's the surprise twist in his not-so-fairy-tale life.Framed and forsaken, Vyan is left with nothing but a grudge and some pretty gnarly scars, courtesy of his once-master, Iyana. Oh, did he mention she is the daughter of a marquess and the object of his unrequited affection? Talk about adding insult to injury.Just when he is ready to unleash his inner berserker, a butler comes along with news that makes his hair stand on end: Vyan is the last heir of the Grand Duke's mage dynasty!With power crackling at his fingertips and more mana than he can shake a wand at, Vyan is ready to show the world what happens when you underestimate the underdog. Will Vyan rise from the ashes like a phoenix, or will he crash and burn like a fire-breathing chicken? There's only one way to find out.

I have been reincarnated as a mob. Isn’t that usually how it starts, right? But this development feels a little strange, doesn’t it? Most people would be sad to be a mob, but then they end up having a significant role and overshadowing the protagonist. Well, that’s only natural. After all, I know the story and work hard from the beginning, so it’s only natural that I excel.

So, the correct way to express it would be like this:

“I’ve been reincarnated as a mob protagonist.”

“I’ve been reincarnated as a mob.”

To put it accurately, “I’ve been reincarnated as a mob in a popular novel. I’m a character who doesn’t appear in the story at all.”

Well, some people might say, “Hey, if that’s the case, you’re not even a mob!” But the thing is, that novel is popular, you know? It’s been adapted into a game.

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[sweet, pampering][strong FL, 1v1]He was an absolute noble, decisive and cold-hearted, yet he was persistently entwined with her, doting incessantly.The first time they met, he questioned, “Six years ago, was it you?”The second time they met, he was holding a paternity test, “You still dare to say your son isn't mine?”The nth time they met, she finally lost her patience, “Sir, will you ever give it a rest?”The man lifted the corners of his mouth, smiling with a deep and enchanting charm, “Not before our second child is born.”