The Speedrun Manual of Miss Witch - Chapter 131 - I’m Tired, Want to Sleep (1/2)

It always starts with an accident.That’s how all these stories go. One moment, you’re minding your own business, and the next, you wake up in someone else’s body. For Caspian, his accident started earlier than he even knew.Maybe it began when his sister got him into romance novels? Or when he started really sympathizing with the villains at the ends of books? He’d never know. It was too late to worry about it now.For now, he had to find a way to fix this nightmare, or rehabilitate his image, all while trying to free himself from the fate set out for him. All because of the damn “gods” who he'd cut a deal with.These were the only two options he had available, and he wasn’t sure he could succeed at either. The man he had taken over for had been…a true piece of work. And the secret villain of the book he had been reading before he passed.It had been a harem novel. A reverse harem novel.He was trapped in a huge ass CASTLE with a bunch of men who hated him because he was taking affection and time away from their shared wife. All Cass wanted to do was be a good person, not mess around with this poor woman and her far too handsome husbands.But why would no one leave him alone? Was he too suspicious? And why, after going out of his way to avoid them like they had asked, did they keep pestering him?And where did the heroine go?How was he going to manage three, handsome men without the heroine?

Lacking a pocket dimension, lacking a power, lacking a thigh to hug onto and the three life advantages (money, power, and looks), he had been cautiously living in the apocalypse for ten years, getting closer to falling inside the zombie’s mouths. But unexpectedly, he had the terrible luck, to be caught in a fight between two gangs and die, it really left people feeling disappointed.

But when he opened his eyes, he had returned to a decade ago, three months before the apocalypse!

Like before he still lacked an ability, an ordinary person without a pocket dimension, but he did have ten full years of experience living in the apocalypse! Even if he didn’t fight zombies, didn’t hunt monsters, he could still live a carefree farming life in the safe zone.

Find a safe house, utilise all kinds of skills from his previous life to farm in exchange for meat, and if possible, find a person to peacefully spend the rest of his life with; ordinary people had their own ordinary little pieces of happiness.

Originally believing he had picked up a beauty he returned home to prepare a golden house, but on the contrary he was the one being pushed down……someone once said, whether it is people or matters, by no means can you only look at the surface!

- Description from novelupdates

A person died in our world. And when he opened his eyes again… the stars had changed.Reborn into the age of myth, long before his time and when Olympus stood tall, he awakens in the Garden of the Hesperides. Reincarnated as the God of Power he is now watched over by mysterious nymphs under Hera's silent command. Unaware of the divine politics at play or the godhood now within him, he must navigate a world of titans, monsters, and primordial chaos.But he’s not entirely alone. A mysterious System, has merged with his soul, offering quests, powers, and choices that creates and enhances powers and help him shape his path toward ascension. As the gods begin to stir and ancient forces clash for control, the new deity must find his place in a pantheon not yet formed and carve a name into legend with power, cunning, and the will to rise.Because in this world, divinity is earned.And only those who ascend... survive.Author's Note:This story draws inspiration from Greek mythology, but takes creative liberties for the sake of narrative and worldbuilding. While many elements remain faithful to the ancient myths, others will be reimagined or altered entirely. Please enjoy this interpretation as a myth of its own.

Perhaps the paintings in a museum are subjected to more nonsense than you would hear anywhere else in the world.The language that comes out of an artist’s life is the painting itself. It contains the most ordinary lives that know failure, desire, recoiling in fear, and compromise.Learning is about understanding that language. We miss much of what the paintings speak because there is no way to ask the long-dead painters about the philosophy of their lives.In an alleyway in the residential area of Jongno, there’s a peculiar art gallery. This place enables us to transcend such limitations. By sheer coincidence, I ended up visiting that place and began living an entirely different life.