Middle Child Syndrome - Chapter 9: Ch : Don’t make promises you cannot keep

Leaving a normal life is boring, but I was happy with what I had.

Even when I spent most of my life in regret and misery, I lived because I had someone that I loved dearly.

And that said someone took my life...

But fate had different plans for me...

As if death wasn't enough for me.

As if the gods were mocking me.

I got reincarnated into a hardcore romance game that I used to play.

That too when the prequel game that I played the most ended twenty-five years ago.

A game where death is everyone's mistress.

A game that people either liked or hated too much.

Now reincarnated into the body of the Villainess's son.

I became someone that I hated the most...

“Hahaha...”

I laughed at my own misery.

As if that too wasn't enough, I also became the slave of someone else's desires.

Now, one might say a mother is a mother even if the world sees her as a Villainess.

But what if your mother is the very incarnation of evil?

That your mother is the hurdle that you have to overcome?

What if your mother is the very reason you might die?

Gentleness and love are the last things one could expect from her.

“Hahaha...”

Again, a hollow laugh escaped my lips as the realization dawned on me.

That I have been...

Reincarnated As The Villainess's Son...

……………………………………………………………

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The curtains to an epic of a continental power struggle are pulled open. There’s an entire empire in Dane’s heart!

Churches, tribes, prisons, forests, castles, graveyards, abysses . . . He controls the bases of all seven races in the fantasy epic war game, [Heart of Dynasty]; right before his eyes is the throne of a monarch!

Elf rangers pull your bows, the heavy-armoured knights are charging!

The Caesar Empire has collapsed. An era of war for the new ruler arises. The Kingdom sends endless expeditions; the Northern Alliance is unwilling to be excluded; the abyss and death begin to stir as they gaze upon the continent. Plots, tricks, religious wars. . . amidst these battles, only the victor can be called powerful!

Dane, holding a blade dripping with blood, says with bared teeth, “f*ck! Let me use my ass to see whether that seat at the top is comfortable or not!”

- Description from Novelupdates

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.

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