Eternal Heart - Chapter 596: Defeating Zhao Ru

Extras die every day in various ways in the game [Demon King’s Palace 3].

He was an extra when he reincarnated into the game.

I’ll never die. Never.

“Let’s get started.”

Evan had come to a conclusion. He tapped his cheeks as a way of signaling to himself that he had made up his mind.

He would become a character who never dies.

As a wandering soul trapped in endless cycles of reincarnations, Claus must decide what to do in his current life.

The real world merged with the game world, monsters came to the world, and herds of beasts raged in the city.

In order to eliminate monsters in the dungeon, everyone who has player qualifications has to hunt monsters, choose a career, keep getting stronger, and protect human cities from being destroyed.

Elemental mage, fire and ice, destroy everything! In the priesthood shield battle, Mount Tai collapsed in front of him and remained unchanged.

However, Han Yu, who had high hopes, chose the summoner profession that even dogs would not choose.

“Summoner? Is there anyone for this profession? Don’t dogs even play?”

“Who will team up with a summoner, let him brush slowly by himself. The two summoned creatures are not enough for me to step on.”

“I heard that his talent is not bad, why can’t he think about it so much, and changed his job to a summoner.”

Until one day, Han Yu was drinking tea while standing behind Huyun Leopard, which was the size of a mountain, and the giant skeleton hand that emerged from the ground gently pinched the boss to death.

Only then did people discover that Han Yu’s summoned objects would not disappear, and could even be cultivated continuously!

- Description from novelbuddy

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.