Return of the Former Hero - Chapter 104. Former Hero. Looks back on his journey.

After coming out of a tunnel… it was pitch dark.

An unnamed 34-year-old Japanese NEET is evicted from his home following his parents' death.

Upon some self-introspection, he concludes that his life was ultimately pointless.

Walking down a street he intercepts a speeding truck heading towards a group of teenagers, in an attempt to do something meaningful for once in his life he manages to pull one of them out of harm's way before getting himself in the way of the truck and dying.

Awakening in a baby's body, he realizes he has been reincarnated in a world of sword and sorcery.

He resolves to become successful in his new life, discarding his past identity for his new life as Rudeus Greyrat.

She had never expected that she would slept with her deadly enemy,but it turned out to be a good match for both of them.

while after marriage ,his indifference finally angered her.

You damn bastard!

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.