MTL - One New Rule Per Month Globally - Chapter 147 "Prop Name": Human Daos.

“I hesitated before, I turned back to face my shred of hope, yet still no one cared.”“Later the thick fog arose, you said you loved me so much, but why is your love even fainter than the fog, so faint that I can’t even see it clearly.”

--WSA 2025 ENTRY--Neraxis saved the people and wiped out the monsters, but instead of cheers, he faced silence and a glowing blue text:[Task Failed Successfully!][Rating Generated: SSS-Rank]“The hell does that even mean?” he muttered, finding the situation a bit strange.Before he could process, the so-called heroes—who had hidden while he fought—emerged. He waited for gratitude, only to feel a dagger pierce his back.The only girl he loved stood behind him.She betrayed him.The crowd and heroes? They were staring at him with disdain and contempt.“You...” he groaned as a spear and sword headed for him, ending his life.But instead of dying, he was sent back to the past—specifically, to the first day of the academy, year 2367, 8 years before his death.However, many things had changed. One of the most significant was the sudden appearance of a Tower, a mysterious structure that had appeared across all the continents, granting power to those brave enough to contest its challenges.“Not again... With this chance I will end you all” Neraxis vowed to himself, embarking on his path of revenge, while also trying to give his life new meaning.

The world I transmigrated into was a dark fantasy game universe, devoid of hope or dreams.Doesn’t feel like it at all, though.

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.