MTL - The King’s Avatar - Chapter 47 I am playing with people

A door unfolded before him.Evil thrived, and whispers spilled from within.The resentful compound eyes flickered and vanished, the presence longing to burst out was blocked inside, and the alluring murmurs echoed in the ear.The sticky, pink brain mumbled something. A figure cloaked in a yellow robe watched from a distance. A dark green presence, smelling of blood, roared. A string of wondrous soap bubbles released friendliness—and many, many guests.They sincerely invited Lu Li to join this mad party.Lu Li stepped in, his stride resolute and unwavering.He had no reason to refuse.

Ukei Kaito fought a desperate struggle in order to fulfill his role as a summoned hero. He defeated the Demon Lord and saved the very world, only to meet an end filled but with betrayal. The companions that he’d trusted throughout his journey betrayed him and killed him by sticking a blade through his chest.

At nineteen, Dexter was already one of the world’s most celebrated authors. His books topped charts. Critics praised his genius. Fans devoured every word. But behind the acclaim was a lonely boy—raised without parents, love, or real friends—just stories.He published his first novel at fourteen. By seventeen, he was a literary star. But the higher he rose, the hollower it felt.Then came the writer’s block. The headaches. The blackout. And the transmigration.Dexter awoke in the body of Daylan, a disgraced young man in a crumbling, medieval world laced with steampunk tech, divine law, and political unrest. Daylan had already failed two of the three sacred Trials—rites that determine one’s magical potential. He was drowning in debt, entangled in plots to overthrow a corrupt Divine Church, and branded a lost cause.With no way back, Dexter took the final Trial—the most brutal of them all—and began a path that would earn him the whispered title: Soldier, Poet, King.But as his powers grew, one question haunted him: Did he truly die? And if so, who—or what—chose to bring him back?

What would you feel if after living your whole life out, you found out that you're just a character in a book?

That every encounter and misfortune were just the machinations of the author?

And if one day, you will be given a chance to escape, will you grab the opportunity or remain drunk by your role?

***

Philip was one of the puppets of fate and the main character of a famous book. Yet, unlike other main characters, his life was filled with tragedy and later ended terribly.

Then one day, along with the other 99 men, he was summoned to fight for his freedom. He immediately agreed to participate. He wanted to live freely and control his own life.

However, after seeing the might of his 99 enemies, he instantly became reluctant. Can he win against those who control magic and create miracles? He was just an unlucky soulless player with no interesting ability to begin with!

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