The Mecha Driver Is a Cultivator - Chapter 17: The Deal

Due to a bug in the game, Ren Changsheng accidentally left the game idle for ten million years.As he watched the endless stream of experience points, all Ren Changsheng could think was, 'I really do not want to level up!'

Progression, magical cards, weak to strong, card reforging!The young, sickly Irwin has seen nothing but bad luck in his short life. When his brother finally returns with a magical card for him, his luck is about to change. But will it change for the better? Irwin is sent off together with another group of youths to placate a group of sorcerers. With just a weird utility card granted by his brother, he can only pray to stay alive long enough.[Has been updated with the rewrite of the first 27 chapters]This is a Card gathering story! Crafting is initially not the main focus, but as the story progresses, it becomes more and more important to the MC.Release schedule: [Fri/Sun] Roughly 22:00I am still a non-native English speaker (hard to change), so even with the edits and rewrites, you might find some oddities. Let me know, and I'll fix them right up.

She was reborn as the antagonist of a fantasy novel, a child who bears her family’s resentment.

As it stands, her fate is to end up on the guillotine at the hands of the furious villagers!

Kynemeia, for the sake of a comfortable future, plans to gather some Munchkins to govern the fief. However, there’s one problem…

Kynemeia stared blankly at the boy sitting in the underground prison.

“…Why?”

“I got caught.”

She’s on the receiving end of an unwanted obsession from a suspicious mage?!

This is the story of the struggles of a Grand Duke’s daughter who wishes to transform her life
and the Munchkin mage who feigns innocence!

*Munchkin: a Korean slang for a character with overpowered skills.

I smile. I know I smile. I just don't know when.“Entropy?” After all, the blood in my veins dried up decades ago, only dust remains.“Ephemera?” My begging longingness—all of my dreams, devoured by void. Left is but an empty shell—hollow inside.“Life?” Paradox.“Death?” Cold, but equal for all. Just like the blood in my heart's arteries and veins— frozen—time immemorial.“Universe?” Its fabric—time and space, wrapped around like some illusion, a grand simulation—just like that dream...faint, but there.“Dream?” I couldn't tell...very...disorderly like chaos, like silhouette in the mist, hard to capture, it's memory very faint.“Home?”“Home?”“Are you there?”...***Reality fiction.