The Regressed Mercenary's Machinations - Chapter 622: Finally, I Meet You Again (1)

A mortal teenager strayed into the immortal way because of an accident, struggling on the road of seeking immortality.

Immortal Road is difficult to climb to the sky, in the face of numerous obstacles, his desire to seek the truth is still unabated.

Looking back again, the green mountains are still there, so the old is boneless.

- Description from novelbuddy

I’ve always dreamed of becoming a villainess, but I never thought that I would actually become one….!

This is the story of a young girl who aspires to become a villainous noble girl who’s capable of growing stronger through every confrontation that she is faced with.

Disclaimer: The main character’s standards for a villainess are a bit off.

[Linguistics Skill: Lv0 (7/10)] [Apothecary Skill: Lv1 (15/100)] [Knight Breathing Skill: Lv2 (36/200)] [Knight Breathing Skill Experience Point +1] ------ In the year 3077 of the Berta calendar, during the era of confusion before wizards had reached the throne, he brought them ’Straight A Student Panel.’ He stepped into the sorcerer world, perfected sorcerer knowledge, like a bright moon dispelling the mists of the era. He was Ivan Marichardon, a pioneer of knowledge, he blazed trails for the way of the sorcerer.

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.