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The moment that he tapped on the submit button, a blaring siren resounded within Aecateon’s ears. [[ Warning! ]] [[ Warning! ]] [[ “I M P R I S O N E D : E R O S S T H E M U R D E R E D” is incorrect ]] [[ Player Igor Vali failed the 9th Guessing Opportunity ]] Upon the appearance of the panel he dreaded to see, Aectaeon couldn’t stop himself from groaning inwardly. [[ Initiating Time Extension ]] [[ 10th Guessing Opportunity Countdown: 15 D ; 23 H ; 59 M ; 59 S ]] [[ Clue {13th letter}: Harold __ Baster]] [[ Player’s progress: I M P R I S O N E D : E R _ _ S T H E M U R D E R E D ]] [[ Return Countdown: 20 D ; 19 H ; 30 M ; 14 S ]] [[ Repeating Mission Order ]] [[ Mission ]] [[ Complete the Title of the Current Game World ]] [[ Reward ]] [[ A: Player will be permitted to choose the genre of the next world ]] [[ Penalty ]] [[ A: Forced forfeiture of artefact ownership ]] With contempt in his eyes, Aectaeon watched as the series of transparent panels flashed quickly before his eyes. He slumped further down his seat as he felt the frustration coursing through his veins. ‘There’s not much time between the Guessing Opportunity and the next transmigration. Meaning, I have to correctly predict what’s the last letter on my own. Luck better be on my side or hell be damned. That artefact will be an important key to my survival..’ As he thought of his unfortunate fate, Aectaeon began to regather his resolve. The man wanted to escape this system of endless transmigrations. However, if fate refused to align with his wishes, then there’s one thing left for him to do. And that was to set the system ablaze with the own fire that it created. { Excerpt from the 4th Game World. }

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what could possibly be waiting for release in 2094....

Belle is any normal 17 years old. She has friends, goes to the movies, and goes to school. What most people don't know though is that she is also BP or Bloody Princess. Second in command for the Black Widow Gang. But being in a gang is a full-time job and what happens when both job and school start to mix together? What can she do?

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From a windless crater on Helgrind, a hammer not of this world is found. It answers only to truth—and every strike costs a memory. Asgrim, a fjord-born protector, refuses the easy road to godhood. While the White Jarl spreads the Great Quiet—a lattice of hush that eats wind, warning, and song—Asgrim learns to spend smaller: recalls on invisible rails, storm tethers, and shields that orbit like moons. With shipwright Ash, spear-brother Fen, and sea-witch Ylva, he turns work and chorus into counter-magic. When the Grand Bell is hauled to the capital to smother an entire city, Asgrim stakes everything on a single oath: he will break the Quiet—and pay the price up front. With a one-use rift-hook and a craftsman’s patience, he cuts the bell’s silence-skin and hammers the wound open. Breath returns. Ovens bark. Laughter carries. Victory isn’t free. His own name won’t stick in his mouth; the community holds it for him, carving it into wood and speaking it at dawn. What remains is wrong thunder—low, humble, and his—kept for harbors, not crowns. A Norse-flavored, low-magic epic about voice versus control, power as debt (not a crown), and a found family who choose craft over spectacle. City-saving stakes, tactical combat, oath-driven magic, and an ending that trades glory for usefulness.

Destroy what stands to my part of greatness. I'm just a lazy boy who wants to leave a lazy life, disturb my peace, I year you to pieces. I am the one "The Devil" fears. I am Death's substitute. Join me on the journey of my lazy life and see how I year down my enemies

Qin Yao opens her eyes and finds herself transmigrated from a post-apocalyptic world into the body of an ancient peasant woman. Her family consists of four stepchildren needing care. A good-for-nothing husband, who has nothing but looks, is causing a ruckus. They live in a thatched hut, without a grain of rice, the family is emaciated like refugees. If that wasn't enough, someone even comes to collect debts! Anger rises in Qin Yao's heart, and she kicks the wretched husband out, "Debt collector, feel free to just beat him to death!" The four stepchildren: !!! With the world quieted, Qin Yao rolls up her sleeves to revive the family. Hunting, carrying bags, fighting bandits, she's an expert in all. But facing the fields, with her back to the sky, and her face to the earth, even a top-tier fighter from the post-apocalyptic world waves her hand: Can't take it! Really can't take it! Qin Yao scratches her head: In the ancient times where agricultural taxes are extremely high, how can I avoid farming? At this moment, the lazy husband who was sent away to die (twisting and crawling) (struggling to stand up) (screaming and roaring): My dear! I think I can be saved!