Tribulation of Myriad Races - Chapter 1325: If I Were King (1)

I somehow managed to be reincarnated as a maid who monopolized the Emperor’s affection. In the end, she was killed by the Evil Empress through vicious means.‘Fortunately, I’m only five years old.’‘I still have a long way to go before the original work begins, so shouldn’t I just avoid the Emperor and Empress until then?’I thought so, but…“Lize, what did you say to the Emperor?”“I said that I support you.”The evil Empress who was supposed to kill me in the original story won’t leave me alone.“Truthfully, you like me much more than the Emperor, don’t you? Am I right?”Is the Empress trying to win me over?

A mysterious virus emerged, and countless people around the world turned into zombies. Luo Yang, a young man who was about to risk everything, receives the blessing of activating the system.Initially, he gains a massive spaceship with hundreds of subordinates and a divine-level talent.Just when Luo Yang thinks he can live peacefully aboard the ship, he discovers the system's function: to obtain rewards by allowing other survivors to live on board.But Luo Yang doesn’t want to be a savior; the spots on the spaceship are limited, and only those who pay will be allowed to live in his refuge.

This is the first part, the second part is “Playing Fish Trapped in a Secret Room (密室困游鱼 Mi Shi Kun You Yu)”.

In 2007, at the WCG Asian Tournament in Singapore. In just a few hours time, between left and right hands, there goes a life and death battle. In the Chinese team that year, there is a professional player who’s only 15 years old, nicknamed “God’s Left Hand”. At that match, he sits right next to her.

Their professional lives start from 14 years old until they retire, disappear, at 25 years old.

In these non-mainstream tournaments, where a small niche of the population follows closely, their only possessions are a mouse, keyboard, and headphone each. There they won gold medals one after another for China.

The protracted ’witch hunting’ had faded into silence with the end of the Seven Years’ War, and the mysteries of the East Coast had begun to conceal themselves, yet gunpowder was on a rapid rise. Mo Qishang, who should have been utterly confounded, stood at the crossroads of destiny in the name of Arthur. He stared in astonishment at the charging knights, the wizards atop the high towers, and the bizarre wilderness. He felt the sharpness of the longsword and the recoil of the firearm, both clear and unfamiliar. At last, he excitedly shook his robe and, with a smile on his face, said— “Do not believe what I say, for to believe is to exist!”