MiuNovels

For the sake of his family, Ren embarked on the popular VRMMORPG, COVENANT, that used real-time in-game currency. But being a mediocre player who only knows how to gather information, he was put in a supporting role.

As the game explodes in popularity and every multibillion-dollar company invested in the game, things have turned for the worse for Ren. Due to the amount of information he gathered, the cheats, secrets, quests, and bugs he discovered, he was silent in fear of selling the information to the other guilds.

But given a second chance, he went back in time when his father was still alive and COVENANT was just in its starting phase.

This time . . . he wouldn’t be that guy on the side who gathered information from day in and day out for ten years. 

Equipped with the games knowledge he accumulated, he will become . . . an Alchemist!

Chrono Mage? Djin Master? Summoner? Necromancer?
Chaos Lord?

What good are those? 

Sure they’re powerful and rare classes and sought after by guilds, but it’s the alchemist who forged artifacts and concocts rare items and potions that gets the most coins at the end of the day!

It was better than being a blacksmith or a crafter! Plus, he could use all sorts of magic without limit to race and class!

It was the ultimate class! And no one even knows it!

MMORPG: Rebirth as an Alchemist

COMPLETED!

"Who is she?" Evie aske, curiously calm.


She sounded composed, yet a lethal creeping cold made Ren's spine twinge.


First Saya, and then her — now, there was another short girl!


"It seems like you really like little girls," Evie said to Ren with a smile on her tilted head.


"It's not what you think!" Ren immediately defended himself. How did he get himself into this situation? "I thought she was you!"


"Really?" Evie spoke in fake surprise. "You couldn't tell the difference at all?"


Ren knew the hidden meaning behind those words without his little girlfriend expounding it. Her point was that he should be able to distinguish even the texture of her fingers, the length of her nails, and the line on her palms — if he really liked her, that is.


". . ." That was a woman's logic — he couldn't refute it no matter what.


"T-that's . . ." Ren had never found himself in trouble as deep as this, and he didn't know how to smooth his way out from this.


Dracula’s Castle 11