Urban Immortal Doctor Master - Chapter 349: Auctioning Spirit Boat [Thank you with five bows]

A Professional Transmigrator meets a newbie Regressor.

❄️❄️❄️

He lived an average, fulfilling life and died of old age. The next moment, he opened his eyes as the Princess of Asmaria.

While looking forward to his new life, he died again.

And so began his 151,897,914th life as Samur Eckart.

Samur is a Professional Transmigrator- or so he says so, as he gets transmigrated into a new world every time he dies.

However, each time, his memories return only moments before his death. If he successfully survives, he gets to live that life, if he dies, well, he just moves on to his next moment of death.

Once again on the verge of death as Samur, he’s saved at the last moment by a young boy.

Surprise, surprise, the young boy is a Regressor.

As a man of honour, Samur intends to repay his debt then leave because the world is too inconvenient to live in.

Well, that’s what he thought, at least, but the Regressor and his friends are kind of… weird, and he can’t seem to get away at all?

However, not everything is as it seems. Samur’s whims have made him the part of an eternal lie.

Shadows dance in glee as they concoct a requiem far grander than anyone can imagine, while the Lights tremble in delight as the apocalypse threatens the Universe.

The dies have been cast, the play has been written, the characters are on the stage, and the sacrifices have been made.

And so, it’s finally time to let this game begin.

The entire planet was dragged into a mysterious space known as the “Civilization Trial,” with various apocalyptic trials following one after another. The crisis began with a parasitic threat, parasitic monsters silently replacing humans, and no one knew whether their relatives, friends, or comrades-in-arms had been masquerading as monsters. As everyone was steeped in deep fear, Shen Hao stared blankly at something extra that appeared before him. [Civilization Trial Cheats Collection] Begin with a mandatory draw of a Red Mythical Talent, friend-or-foe marking map, loot box probability adjustment, points acquisition multiplied by a hundred... Monster: “Run! This civilization is cheating!!!”

Demien Walter died on a rain-soaked road in 2025, his career a footnote in football history.A journeyman midfielder whose playing days ended in obscurity. A tactical obsessive whose notebooks gathered dust. A coach whose first opportunity came too late and ended too soon.Until he opened his eyes in 2003, inhabiting the body of Yves Laurent — head coach of AS Monaco.Now, armed with twenty years of football knowledge from a future that hasn't happened yet, Demien faces the ultimate tactical challenge: rewriting history from the touchline.He knows which players will become legends. He remembers which matches change careers. He's witnessed the tactical revolutions that transformed the game.Monaco is just the beginning. With each victory, each tactical masterclass, each deviation from the timeline he remembers, Demien alters football's destiny. From the Champions League's bright lights to World Cup glory, from Milan to Madrid to Manchester, his journey will reshape the beautiful game in ways no one could predict.No cheat codes. No supernatural abilities. No second chances.Just a man with future knowledge in a past world, attempting to build a legacy that even death couldn't erase.Football isn't just played on the pitch. It's won in the mind.And Demien Walter's mind has already lived through everything that's about to happen.

I had finally done it—achieved the ultimate Paladin build. Maxed stats, impenetrable armor, and so many resistances that death itself had given up on me. I was an unkillable tank, an indomitable force. Nothing could stop me.And then my PC exploded.I died.Irony, thou art a cruel mistress.But instead of the afterlife, I woke up as my Paladin character… in the wrong freaking genre. Instead of castles and dungeons, there were people flying around on swords, shooting qi beams like fantasy laser guns.“This is definitely the wrong genre,” I muttered, watching a pompous young master sneer at me.“Kowtow, kiss my foot, and beg for forgiveness!” he declared.I looked at my imaginary maxed-out health bar, then at his flimsy silk robes.Oh, this was going to be fun.