The Book Eating Magician - Chapter 10 - Dealings with a Black Market Trader #2

On the night when the savior of the wizarding world should have been born, Harry Potter died under the unforgivable curse.

The man who made almost all British wizards dare not call him by name, regained the wisdom and ambition that belonged to him from the Horcrux.

Darkness has completely enveloped the island of Great Britain.

Wizards are divided into high and low according to their bloodlines. Pure blood firmly holds the authority that belongs to the superior, and people called mudbloods can only be as humble as mud and trampled on throughout their lives.

The Ministry of Magic, which is supposed to enforce justice, is full of villains, and the castle, which is supposed to impart knowledge, is full of oppression.

In these dark times.

Jon Green, who came from across time, was brought into the exiled carriage that truly inherited the title of “Hogwarts”…

—————————

There are already two million-word finished high-quality old books, quality assurance, welcome to enter the pit!

- Description from novelbuddy

Akira Tsukihara was a romance author who despised love. Though she wrote best-selling novels filled with idealistic romance, she harbored nothing but contempt for the genre and the readers who adored it. Love, in her eyes, was a lie—an illusion that blinded people from the true forces of the world: power, betrayal, and ambition. One night, in a fit of frustration, she cursed love itself... and woke up trapped inside one of her own stories.Reborn as Aira, a nameless peasant girl in the Kingdom of Seraphis—a world she had meticulously crafted—Akira quickly realizes that reincarnation isn’t the fantasy dream she had written about. She isn’t a noble, a princess, or a heroine blessed with beauty and power. She is a nobody. A commoner, struggling to survive in the harsh realities of the medieval world she had once designed as a mere backdrop for her grand romances.As Aira, she faces starvation, endless labor, and the crushing weight of insignificance. But Akira was never one to accept fate. If she couldn’t escape this world, she would rewrite the story on her own terms. She would carve her name into history—not as the lovestruck heroine of a cliché romance, but as the mastermind who would bend the world to her will.In a land ruled by noble bloodlines and political schemes, where the romance tropes she once loathed play out before her eyes, Aira sets her sights on one goal: destroying the very ideals of love that had imprisoned her in this wretched world.Even if it means becoming the villain of her own story.

At the far north of the Atherno Continent, in an unknown village, Kyrian was born as a mere mortal. Weak, insignificant, and destined for oblivion.But he was anything but ordinary. Upon opening his eyes for the first time, they revealed an absolute white eyes without pupils or irises… and with them, an inexplicable innate talent.The ability to see what no one else could.His eyes didn’t just see the particles of spiritual energy, they could steal them. And more than that.Whether intentions, laws, concepts… everything before his vision could be taken by his eyes.When he stole his first Sword Intention, his eyes awakened to the path of the blade. Upon taking the Intention of Ice, another ocular pair was born.With every new stolen intention, his eyes changed, and new ones appeared.Kyrian does not hide them from the world, no, heeding his mother’s last wishes. He uses his gift without fear, with only one goal.To become strong by any means.

Arriving in a new world where the steam industry was booming, he inherited a three-story apartment on the capital’s royal square, took in someone else’s cat, and listened to the whispers at his ear, ready to witness this mysterious and bizarre era. The epic of the Sixth Era was about to commence, and behind the curtain, The Chosen One was destined to step into legend. Old Gods, Relics, steam, witches, detectives, ancient secrets, the Era’s brilliance... “Would you like to play a round of Roder Cards?” Time engraved the hours, as Silvermoon illuminated the shadows. I compose your legend, you whisper your verses to me.