Not praying for ten strings

During the demon-summoning ceremony, Aiwass finally recalled his past life's memories.
This should be an online game that his family's company had released and operated for six years. Now, his foster father was the leader of the latest version's antagonist organization.
He would expose his identity six years later, hesitate and then defect from the protagonist's side. Ultimately, because he decided to take a fatal strike meant for the player character, he was killed by his upright older brother in a transitional CG without even a chance to enter the main content.
——But the problem was not too significant. Aiwass also knew many secret advancement routes exclusive to the player character, as well as the Nurturing Secret Sequel regulations of the various Paths. He believed he could reverse his unfortunate fate……
So now there was only one issue left.
"According to the original plot, shouldn't I have been rescued by the protagonist before this lousy ceremony even began?"
Tied to the ceremonial altar as a sacrifice, Aiwass fell into contemplation.
——————
Keywords: Victorian Fantasy, Amber Flow


When the plot-skips players into the game world

Isabel gasped for air, taking huge breaths as she propped herself up against the wall and strained to move forward.


She had long since lost count of the number of times she had died and could no longer discern which dream layer she was in now.


Each death brought her intense punishment.


At first it was just some fever and weakness—painful and uncomfortable, yet she could indeed proceed with the investigation.


After the first time she was pushed down the stairs to her death, she awoke to find herself bound and sitting in the hall.


Apart from herself, there were six other people present. Some cursed loudly, while others were silent.


And a young man with deep-set features and chestnut-brown hair seemingly found a violin out of nowhere and was enjoying the storm outside the window, playing discordant noises at will.


Yes, noises—at least by Isabel's standards. She'd been better at the violin after just three months of practice than this.


Chapter 234 She Completed Her Mission