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transmigration

Reborn in Gary: The Second Life of the King

TITLE: Reborn in Gary: The Second Life of the King CATEGORY: Realistic Fiction / Transmigration & Reincarnation TAGS: Reincarnation, Music, System, Redemption, Historical Fiction, Emotional, Drama, Fame, Second Chance, Slice of Life, Trauma, Family, Coming of Age, Genius Protagonist, Fix-It --- SUMMARY: On a cold Tuesday morning in 2024, twenty-nine year old Marcus Webb closes his eyes for the last time after a sudden cardiac arrest in his Chicago apartment. He leaves behind nothing remarkable — a modest apartment, a streaming playlist, and a lifelong obsession with the greatest entertainer who ever lived. He never published anything. Never created anything. Never became anything. He just loved Michael Jackson deeply, completely, and quietly his entire life. He knew every lyric. Every interview. Every court document. Every betrayal. Every surgery. Every tear. He studied the man the way scholars study scripture. So when Marcus opens his eyes again and finds himself staring up at a cracked ceiling in Gary, Indiana, wrapped in a thin cotton blanket in the summer of 1958, he does not scream. He does not cry. He simply lies there in his newborn body, with his adult mind fully intact, and thinks one single thought. He knows exactly how this life ends. He knows about the poverty of Gary. The tiny two bedroom house on Jackson Street with nine children crammed inside its walls. He knows about Joe Jackson, the cold and iron-handed patriarch who will turn his sons into stars through a method that walks the narrow and brutal line between discipline and cruelty. He knows about the rehearsals that never end, the belt that comes down without warning, and the childhood that gets swallowed whole by ambition. He knows about the Motown audition and the Ed Sullivan appearances and the screaming crowds that will surround him before he is even old enough to understand what fame truly costs. He knows about Quincy Jones and the genius that will pour out of them together. He knows about Thriller and the moonwalk and the single white glove and the night on May 16, 1983 when he will slide across a stage and the world will collectively lose its breath. He knows about the vitiligo and the surgeries and the loneliness that quietly hollows a man out from the inside even as a billion people are screaming his name from the outside. He knows about 1993. He knows about Martin Bashir. He knows about Neverland and what it represented, both the beauty of it and the danger of it. He knows about Dr. Conrad Murray and the propofol and the morning of June 25, 2009 when the most famous human being on the planet died alone on a floor while the people around him scrambled to protect themselves instead of him. Marcus Webb knows all of it. And now he is Michael Jackson. Not a copy. Not a shadow. Not a character in a story. He is in the body, behind the eyes, inside the mind of the boy who will become the King of Pop. Every milestone that awaits him is one he has studied obsessively from the outside. Now he must live it from the inside. He must learn to walk in a body that is not his while carrying memories of a life that no longer exists. He must sit at a dinner table with nine siblings and a father who terrifies him and a mother who is the only soft thing in the house and pretend that he is just a little boy when in truth he is a grieving adult who knows far too much about what is coming. The system arrives on his third day of life. It does not announce itself with fanfare. It appears simply as text at the edge of his vision, clean and white and impossibly calm. LEGEND SYSTEM ACTIVATED. HOST IDENTIFIED. MISSION: PROTECT THE LEGACY. REWRITE THE ENDING. What follows is not a fantasy. It is not an escape. It is the most difficult thing Marcus Webb has ever faced, because the enemy he is fighting is not a person or a system or an industry. The enemy is the slow and invisible damage that gets done to a child when the world decides he be
QueenAaliyah · 1.3k Views

Douluo: What I've become Tang San's Dad

Get the fully translated and completed novel here: Patreon.com/UIGOD Transmigrating to Douluo Continent, he surprisingly became the brother of Qian Xunji. Thinking about the foolish actions of the Wuhun Hall's three idiots that would later harm the Wuhun Hall, Qian Xunfeng immediately felt a sense of frustration. At the age of six, Qian Xunfeng awakened his Eight-Winged Holy Angel, starting with a divine position, and decided to take a gamble. At thirty-eight, he broke through to Title Douluo, being hailed as the youngest Title Douluo on the continent, when a red-robed bishop came to report. "Reporting, Saintess Bibi Dong is in a state of desperation, insisting on eloping with that trash from the Blue Lightning Tyrant Dragon Clan." Qian Xunfeng smiled indifferently: "Good, let her go. There will be a time when she comes back crying." Many years later. What? This is Douluo Continent, where my Qian family can't do as they please? Laughable! This is clearly my Qian family's continent, and what my Qian family sets its sights on will eventually belong to my Qian family. I, Qian Xunfeng, came to Douluo Continent to become the emperor. In an unexpected turn of events, the first-round Tang San reincarnated as Qian Renchuan, Qian Xunfeng's son. Qian Xunfeng unexpectedly discovered that the second-round God-King Tang San had also been reborn, and under Qian Xunfeng's direction, Qian Renchuan and Xiao Wu were deeply in love. (The protagonist has multiple female leads, some male supporting characters are pure love, there will be female leads who fall into depravity, and there will be obsessed women, with childbirth plots.) (Torture Tang San, torture Grandmaster, and a little bit of torture for Bibi Dong in the early stages.)
UIGOD1 · 1m Views

Reborn as the Psycho Villainess Who Ate Her Slave Beasts’ Contracts

At twenty‑nine, she was the youngest CEO in the tech industry—NetVault Security had gone from small startup to Fortune 500 in just six years. The media called her a prodigy. Her board called her unstoppable. Her therapist called her alexithymic. Unable to understand or describe her own emotions. The elevator chimed. Elara didn’t look up. Only one person had after‑hours access. “You’re late,” she said. “The investor meeting is in twelve hours. Did you review the—” “I’m not here about the meeting.” … “Ugh.” Elara lost her life that day at the hands of her mentor and adoptive father. By the next morning, the same people who once called her a genius and praised her to the sky were calling her a coward who killed herself to escape scandal. Then Elara woke up. Not in her office. Not in a hospital. In a different world. In a different body. She was now Elara, the Fourth Princess of this so‑called great kingdom—only to find that this princess was an utter pushover, completely useless in everyone’s eyes. No one feared her. No one respected her. Even her own palace was full of other people’s spies. How is Elara supposed to survive this palace battle, when seven princesses fight in the shadows and she’s known as the weakest one? And can she ever escape this place… or will she decide to win instead? … … “Your Highness, please… ugh…” The leash of light around Mahir’s neck—the head of the knights—tightened with a soft pull. His face flushed red, and not from pain. “Princess, here.” Ken, the strongest beast knight, knelt closer and held out a small pill between his fingers, guiding it gently to Elara’s lips. “Swallow it,” he said quietly. “You used too much power today.” On the floor below the bed, three beastmen knelt in a row, broad shoulders tense, ears twitching, their eyes fixed on her with dazed focus. Thin, glowing leashes of magic ran from their collars to the bands at Elara’s wrists. “Please…” Ken’s voice dropped, rough and a little hoarse. “Put your foot here.” He touched his gloved hand to his chest. “On me.” Elara sighed, half annoyed, half amused, and rested her foot lightly on his armored chest. All three of them drew in a sharp breath at the same time, faces turning even redder as the magic between them flared. Their eyes—gold, amber, and deep brown—looked up at her with the same lost, devoted gaze.
K1ERA · 370.6k Views