How to Survive as a Genius Spy in the Game - Chapter 147: Denif (2)

Magic finally reached planet earth, but it was not like we expected. It came in the form of mystic energy!

After the age of awakening, all living things finally entered the path of evolution.

Mystic Beasts invaded earth, destroying the world as we knew it, but we survived as we finally gained the ability to utilize the energy that the beasts came with.

Mystic Warriors were born, and humanity finally found a moment of reprieve, but the Mystic Beasts were still winning.

Rex Vector, an apparently mystic energy-deficient sword genius who lost everything to the war turned out to be the last inheritor of an Ancient Bloodline.

On fully awakening his bloodline he was granted a system and his whole life changed for the better.

Life held much more in store for him though as the contents of his first system mission revealed a reality to him that he wasn’t sure he wanted to accept.

[You are hungry!]

[You must drink human blood within 24 hours!]

[Penalty for mission failure: Death!]

Someone palmed out a blue dragon, which shocked the world. Someone smashes the green hill with a fist, and thousands of people admire it.

Some people live for thousands of years, just like gods. Some people are merciful and compassionate to the world.

In this world of panic, how can there be no place for me?

(The protagonist kills decisively. If you are not a virgin, kill if you have the strength, and if you don’t have the strength, you will die.)

- Description from novelbuddy

When Su Yaya awakened, she found herself in a novel world as the CEO’s Substitute Wife–-a mere cannon fodder. Knowing that divorce and a tragic ending was awaiting her once her look-alike, the President’s first love returns, Su Yaya only trusted one thing: Money.

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.