Trait Hoarder - Chapter 176: Heart Blood – (1)

“Did I really die?”

Cain Lisworth woke up in the adventurer guild, he had returned to the start of his journey after being killed by the cosmos guards.

Armed with his knowledge, he started his life once again trying to break the heavenly orders and escape the mortal world.

This time, without mistakes he will raise back to the top and reclaim his throne as the strongest enchanter in history!

The main character has transmigrated to a Mysterious Fantasy Land as a ‘Clan Leader’. This is an attempt to paint a realistic reimagination of this mystical world from the perspective of a family member, be it nurturing Spirit Fields, raising Spirit Fish, and developing clan industries on all fronts. While supporting those undeserving elders, our main character becomes their protection, inspiring the younger generation to make a name for themselves by bravely venturing into the Sacred Land’s Academies.The family members in this story are harmonious and unified, working together in a concerted effort for a shared future.This fantasy world is not about passionate battles, but rather, it focuses on the enhancement of various family industries, where elements like monetary resources, facilities, house servants, household generals, clan members, relatives, and in-laws are key.Enjoy this attempt to view the stereotypical Mysterious Fantasy world from a fresh perspective.

When I woke up after a pretty crappy death, what greeted me was one of those famous fantasy worlds! I didn’t expect anything like becoming the strongest with a common job, or rising to the top with the weakest class…

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.