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... my own, I cast a quick glance over to where Levi was taking his well-deserved rest.

He didn't wink back at me. He didn't give me a knowing smile. He didn't even try to avert his eyes.

Levi genuinely focused all of his strength and attention on doing nothing but recovering from his injuries and trying to regain his mana.

He was in a state that screamed past trouble. And yet, no matter how long I waited, the same people that gave him such a hard time failed to reach the po ...

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Darkness is coming, and crisis is everywhere. In this long dark and desperate night, do you want to see a bonfire with warm words? We are that light.

We don’t want to be the little bully who guards one-third of an acre and eats canned food.

We don’t want to drive the harem on a great escape from east to west.

We don’t want to be a bunch of rats guarding rancid cheese in the gutter.

We don’t want to see the panic on your faces and the desperation in your screams.

So we stand up, fight for ourselves, fight for you, fight for humanity!

As long as we are here, the flames of war will never be extinguished.

We light a warm bonfire in the dark night, and watch the dawn with the brilliance of life.

We are the shield of the earth, the patron saint of mankind!

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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.