Cinnamon Bun - Chapter Four Hundred and Fifty-Six - Booksie’s Angels

I am Racist.…I mean, my name is Racis T.I was a stand-up comedian. The flop kind. The type who only got laughs when someone else was roasting him.One night, I was doing a gig at a shady, run-down bar—the kind where tattooed bikers drink motor oil for breakfast. I went in with my usual dark humor, but my jokes were getting the same reaction as my dating profile: complete silence.That didn’t sit right with my inner artist, who was already starving to death. So I did what any committed comedian would—I went darker.Turns out, one of my jokes (or all of them?) triggered a guy so hard that he pulled a trigger. Headshot. Instant death.But hey, look at this: A guy got triggered, so he pulled the trigger. That’s wordplay. But who cares? I’m dead anyway.All I wanted was a successful show, people laughing, and maybe a few girls swooning over my wit. I never cared about money. The millions I’d have made would have gone to charity—specifically, 0.001% of it. See? I’m generous like that.Anyway, death is death. My story should’ve ended there.But… if there is an afterlife, I had a simple wish: become a successful comedian, find a loving wife, and have just enough money to afford three meals a day… and maybe a humble little private yacht. Or a jet. But that’s it. Because, like I said, I don’t care about money.Unfortunately, wishes don’t work that way.Because, well—there was an afterlife.And it was absolutely not what I wished for.

It is the year 2500, and humanity has expanded its reach beyond the confines of Earth. In a distant sector of the galaxy, a young man named Erich “Silber” Jaeger is born into a dystopian empire that tightly controls the lives of its citizens.

Growing up in a society rife with discrimination, Erich faces an uncertain future as he approaches military conscription. He will spend the next two decades of his life serving in the Armed Forces of the Germanic Star-Empire, fighting against the many enemies of the authoritarian state.

As he navigates the treacherous landscape of interstellar warfare, Erich must grapple with his own ambitions and loyalties. Will he rise through the ranks to become the next dictator of the empire, or will he meet a gruesome end on the battlefield?

Join Erich on his journey through the Interstellar Age, as he confronts the challenges of war, politics, and personal identity in a universe filled with danger and intrigue.

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Somebody once told a joke.A man ran in place all his life. He worked a job he didn't love for people he couldn't stand. But at the end of the day, the number in his bank account went up.That man got a second chance at life. He woke up in another world, full of adventures and romances and monsters and gods. And floating above his head he saw the number “1”. So what did he say?“Gosh I better make the number go up.”Not today. Not for this old soul. Reborn as a beast of battle meant to live a short life and die screaming, Garek refuses. He puts the madness of skills and levels behind him and sets out to found a little farmstead. He grows crops. Maybe someday he'll get a pig, and have bacon.It's a shame the world won't let him be. It's a shame that the warmongers and level-grinders hate nothing more than a soul at peace.He put down his sword for a plowshare, but when trouble comes calling, he'll pick it up again.

After being reborn in a sci-fi ABO world, Xi Wei became the newly born son of the Imperial King. He thought, as the emperor’s son he could live a carefree and imposing life, but unexpectedly the First Prince is actually an omega? What the hell is an Omega?

There was an alpha who was born on the same day as the First Prince Xi Wei, the two children grew up together. When Xi Wei looked at the blonde child next door, he always felt that the boy was not pleasing to the eye, so as a child Xi Wei bullied him.

Until many years later …

Looking at the man standing in front of him who was one head taller than him, Xi Wei was dumbfounded.

–He tried to get out of the way, but eventually still fell into his childhood sweetheart’s clutches.

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