Behind the bustling facade of Allenson City lay foul, sewage-ridden alleyways.
The wreckage of steam machinery.
Discarded materials from magical experiments.
And all manner of household waste, mingled with unidentified flesh and blood, fermented relentlessly in the rainwater, emitting a putrid, eye-watering stench.
Passersby would often walk past with faces twisted in disgust.
Their boots hurriedly clattering over the stone steps.
Not even sparing a second glance.
No one noticed the small figure curled up in the shadows of the alleyway walls, trembling, her face numb and vacant.
Her hair was matted with filth, soaked through with grimy water.
Disheveled. Reeking.
No joy, no sorrow—only hollow emptiness and an unnameable fear.
Hunger and pain struck at once, tormenting the girl’s frail body.
"...So hungry."
Her eyes were dull and lifeless, gray with numbness. Clutching her aching, burning stomach, she sat in the mud, waiting for death.
"...It hurts."
Her hand reached up, brushing the wound on her neck.
A rope burn, left by a noose dragged behind a galloping carriage.
Hated for her demonic bloodline.
Alive because of her demonic bloodline.
A paradoxical, suffocating torment, like invisible shackles.
Too heavy for the young witch to bear.
"...So tired."
She curled tighter into herself.
Retreating further into the alley’s shadows.
Maybe death would let her sleep forever, free from hunger.
But then—
Footsteps echoed in the alley. The sweet scent of fresh bread stirred something primal in her.
She was starving.
She needed to eat.
Against her will, her parched throat managed a weak swallow.
Torn between guilt and desperation,
the young witch forced herself up, dripping with mud, her bruised hands clutching a small knife as she brandished it at the unsuspecting stranger entering the alley.
"S-Stop!"
"Give... give me the bread!"
Would she get the bread?
Or would she be killed on the spot?
Moments later, the witch stared blankly at the loaf in her hands, then at the outstretched palm offering it to her.
"Come with me."
The man’s voice was gentle.
Krisha was confused. She couldn’t comprehend what was happening.
Was he asking her to be his slave?
If so, that might be a good thing—at least she wouldn’t have to wander anymore.
She braced herself.
Whether as a slave or a disposable tool, being "needed" meant she could keep living.
But the man named Xu Xi was strange.
He washed away her filth.
Gave her clean clothes.
Prepared a room for her.
And in a voice soft with warmth, he asked for her name.
"Krisha..." The young witch murmured, her hollow eyes lifting to meet his. "Krisha Christina."
Xu Xi smiled.
Gently, he patted her head.
"That’s a beautiful name," he praised.
It was the first compliment the witch had ever received.
Inside the room, Xu Xi busied himself arranging her space, preparing bedding for her to sleep.
"Such a strange master..."
Watching him, Krisha felt even more lost.
This wasn’t what she had expected.
No beatings. No scorn. No harsh words.
The young witch had prepared for the worst.
Yet what she received—
was something she had never dared imagine.
"Krisha, today we’ll learn this," the man said softly, seating her across from him as he taught her basic knowledge and writing.
Yes.
The witch was learning.
She didn’t understand why someone as ugly and worthless as her was being educated.
But she obeyed.
Even confused, she followed Xu Xi’s instructions without question.
She learned letters, common sense, how to speak properly.
The twisted horns on her head, the patchy scales on her skin—those monstrous traits no longer tormented her within these walls.
Yet sometimes—
the memories still haunted her body.
When Xu Xi raised his hand, she would flinch away.
A terrified whimper escaping her.
Colliding with chairs and tables in panic before huddling in a corner, arms wrapped tightly around her head.
"N-No... please... don’t..."
The young witch trembled, bracing for pain.
But it never came.
Slowly, she dared to open her eyes.
And saw only regret in his expression—concern, guilt, and unmistakable tenderness.
"I’m sorry, Krisha."
"...I’m so sorry."
Her [master] had apologized to an [object].
The words washed over little Krisha, leaving her silent and bewildered.
transmigrates into the world as the sect master of the Heavenly Yan Sect, which is on the verge of being wiped out. He binds a system that grants him cultivation power based on the number of disciples he has: for each disciple, he automatically gains a year's worth of cultivation every single day! Take one disciple: every day he gains 1 year of cultivation power. While others struggle through a year of bitter training, he gets the same just by sleeping through a single night. Take ten disciples: every day he gains 10 years of cultivation power. Foundation Establishment, Core Formation, Nascent Soul—he breezes through all bottlenecks without lifting a finger. Take one hundred disciples: every day he gains 100 years of cultivation power. Even a Soul Transformation Venerable before him can’t survive a single blow. Take ten thousand disciples: every day he gains 10,000 years of cultivation power! With a wave of his hand, he topples empires. With a single step, he crushes the sacred grounds of the universe. ... While others fight tooth and nail for secret techniques, Lin Yan casually hands out Nascent Soul-level cultivation manuals as beginner textbooks. While others strain to find talented recruits, Lin Yan opens his doors to anyone—so long as they’re human. In just three short years, the Heavenly Yan Sect went from a backwater sect made up of three crumbling huts to a sacred land that every cultivator under heaven would kill to enter. ... One day, otherworldly demon gods invade, with a million demon soldiers pressing down upon the realm. Lin Yan, yawning, rises from his lounge chair and glances at the system panel: [Current Disciples: 1.28 million] [Daily Cultivation Increase: 1.28 million years] He waves his hand casually, and the countless demon soldiers are reduced to ashes in an instant. “So noisy… interrupting my fishing.”
e, Immortal Body, Transmigration, System, Progression Fantasy, Academy Setting, Third-Person Perspective. Alternate Title: Transmigrating into a High Martial World and Reading Live Comments. Bad news: I transmigrated. This is a terrifying high-martial world, and my original, pathetically weak body fell into a coma and never woke up. Good news: I got a Popularity Points system upon arrival. I can see live comments and even create an unkillable alternate identity. Starting out, the alternate identity has all stats at 1. The system tells me that to grow stronger, I must participate in the plot, gain popularity points to allocate stats and grow stronger, and ultimately awaken my original body. And so, carrying my original body on my back, I officially entered Huaqing Academy, where the story's protagonist resides. From that moment on, Chen Guan kicked the original plot to pieces. Live Comments: [Doesn't anyone find this mysterious coffin guy creepy? He can summon indescribable grey misty hands.] [Is this guy a hero or a villain? What kind of onion became a spirit?] [By the way, does anyone know who's in the coffin? Shouldn't the debt for saving his life be repaid by now?] [According to unofficial histories, the person in the coffin was Chen Guan's first love. Their love was once passionate and earth-shattering, but they were separated by life and death due to worldly circumstances. What a star-crossed pair.] ... Years later, the world knew of a demon god born from a coffin, shrouded in grey mist, impossible to gaze upon directly. His foremost divine emissary often wielded a scythe, reaping lives like the god of death. As war approached, facing former friends and a boundless sea of enemies, Chen Guan merely raised his scythe. "Would you like to dance as well?"
pression Bureau] Transported to a fantasy world overrun by demons and monsters, Gu Qingfeng becomes a jailer in the Demon Suppression Prison of the Great Yan Dynasty's Demon Suppression Bureau. From this point on, bizarre cases frequently occur in the Demon Suppression Prison, once known as hell on earth and infamous for its gloomy, terrifying atmosphere! Why do the demons and monsters in the prison wail miserably every night? Why has the corpse demon, capable of transforming into various beauties, donned black stockings and switched careers to become a foot massage therapist? Why has the eye demon, expert in soul-snatching and illusions, turned into a VR headset? Why is the fox spirit performing otaku dances? Are all these occurrences a twisted expression of demonic nature, or a descent into moral depravity? After peeling away layer upon layer of mystery, all clues ultimately point to a jailer named Gu Qingfeng. Gu Qingfeng: "Hehehe... My dear demons and monsters, whose card shall we flip today?"
ap a wealthy young lady? Or else I'll be eliminated by the system? Ye Feng, who awakened the Kidnapper System, originally wanted to live a peaceful life but never imagined he would become a kidnapper of young women. However, after some time, he discovered that all the girls the system ordered him to kidnap were far from ordinary. "Big brother Ye Feng~ You've kidnapped my heart, and now you're not allowed to leave me ever again~" "Ye Feng~ You kidnapped me back then, now it's my turn to capture you♡" "Little Feng, you're mine! You can only be mine!" "Ye Feng, none of them deserve you. Only I love you the most♡" ... This is madness, they've all gone mad! Wait, what? Why are all the girls I kidnapped yanderes?!
