Daily Life of a Transmigrating Villain - Chapter 123 - - A Dream

She transmigrated into the body of a little girl from a fishing village! Her father is honest and foolishly filial, while her mother is weak and ill. Moreover, her siblings are still young children.

Her father was the best fisher in the village and breadwinner of the entire family. However, when he got injured and was on the verge of death, her cruel grandparents and uncle kicked her whole family out. They were hungry and cold with nothing but an empty house…

But that’s ok! She has a multicolored stone that can accelerate the growth of crops. She was also an expert at preparing braised meat in her previous life.

Just watch as she, an eight year-old girl, challenges the taste buds of people who lived during ancient times. With improved high-yielding crops, she’s going to become the most famous farming expert in the world!

Warning: This novel contains explicit adult content, violence, and a ruthless anti-hero MC. Read at your own risk.I was the strongest player in the world—until they betrayed me.When I woke up, I wasn’t a player anymore. I was just an NPC. A nameless mob, doomed to be farmed for EXP and discarded like trash.But then, I heard it:(You have been killed.)(Unique Skill Activated: Infinite Resurrection.)(Each death makes you stronger.)Every time a player slaughters me, I steal their stats, their skills, and their power. I evolve beyond the system’s control, beyond the limits of this world.They thought I was nothing.They thought they could use me, farm me, erase me.Now, I am the final boss—and I will make them suffer.On the battlefield, and in my bed.They will submit. One way or another.

Ryouma Takuma, a 39 year-old man with a hidden past, finds himself in a strange white room. There the gods tell him that he has died and that they are sending his soul to a different world; a world where magic exists. After living alone for three years his gamer soul loses common sense and starts toward crazy routes.

How long I’d been here, I couldn’t quite recall. From this sorry situation, I as always raised my eyes to the sky; a sky in which the great, massive sun was clad in levity. Sunlight poured gently upon all. What a blessing it would have been for the world if only the skies could remain clear. For tomorrow too, and for all days to come, I was to continue to pray for calm. To endure for those who cried, with desperation I remained in prayer.

And then, one freezing, forlorn, soulless, stagnant, drizzly day we died. Or so I thought…