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

"Aiwass," as the words were spoken, the ritual room suddenly fell into complete silence.


All the Cardinal Archbishops looked at each other, but none chose to speak immediately.


Still, some Cardinal Archbishops closed their eyes.


As the Path crystals upon them lit up, when these Cardinal Archbishops reopened their eyes, an increasingly intense, arcane, and mysterious atmosphere pervaded the room.


"——As you have summoned, Kunpeng. I have come."


Cardinal Cyril's expression suddenly changed, taking on an air of chilliness.


He opened his eyes, his pupils turning into an enchantingly amethyst hue, with snake-like flames for irises, fiercely burning within the center of the amethyst.


"How long has it been since we last gathered like this?"


A girl with pure white long hair and a demeanor as cold as snow began speaking with a beam in her eyes.


She had appeared cool and silent before, quiet like a lifeless sculpture. That cleanly-cut long hair gave off a silent sharpness.


Chapter 218: The Descent of the Pillar God