Anit666

A Professional Transmigrator meets a newbie Regressor.
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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, 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.


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The cover photo obviously does not belong to me.

Discord: https://discord.gg/qxmPDzXYTZ 
Instagram: @_anit666_

How to Raise Your Regressor

With each swoosh, a heart was destroyed.

Every time Neia pulled the trigger of her rifle, she, let's just say, put someone out of their misery.

And every time Samur cast his ice spear spell, he took several lives.

Their methods were in no way complex. One just shot using a sniper rifle while the other used a basic magic spell to conjure simple ice spears.

Yet each of their actions took a human life.

The stifled bang of the silenced rifle and the boom of the heads exploding.

The swoosh of the ice spears moving through the air and the pained groans of the people dying.

Together, they formed a simple, yet an eerie cacophony of death.

"You might actually have some talent with the gun," Samur remarked bemusedly.

Neia had proven herself to be an excellent shot; each of the bullets she fired hit their mark without fail.

Bang boom swoosh gah