With merely four years until the Great Tomb of Nazarick rises, Tang Zheng finds himself stranded at the roadside, consuming stale rye bread while wrestling with despair and bewilderment. A transmigration into the realm of the Undead King seemed manageable enough. Yet fate had other plans—he'd arrived not in some sanctuary, but directly into that very world. As he contemplates the inevitable devastation the Tomb will unleash upon kingdoms across the realm, dread creeps through his veins. The future crystallizes into a brutal choice: Perish beneath the weight of catastrophe… Or endure as a subject of the Sorcerer Kingdom. Unless… Tang Zheng's gaze fixes upon the ethereal panel materializing before him— [Innate Ability: Player] "When we all possess the power of players, what reason exists for me to tremble before you?"