Reborn as a Transcendent - Chapter 606: With An Intent, The Overlord Descends!

After the disaster, there wasn't enough food, so I used my superpower to farm, striving together with my childhood friend for a better life.

[Mature Content]
'He was sin. A sin she was not supposed to commit to.'
—

The body of a mermaid is a vault of treasures. Their tears formed the most splendid of pearls, their exquisite blood a euphoric drug for vampires, their luscious hair woven into the finest of silk, and their tender meat sought after by werewolves more than Heaven’s ambrosia.

The creatures of night mingled within human society, fleeced in the wool of aristocracy, veiled in their portrayed innocence and nobility, their savagery continued to predate on the weak and powerless.

Genevieve Barlow, Eve for short, was an exceptionally strange young lady. She had an alluring and beguiling nature, where for her twenty-four year old self had barely changed in appearance since her eighteenth birthday. She had fooled the administration and had gotten a degree so that she could have a better life.

Most odd of all was that Eve had a secret she shared with no one.

She enters the house of Moriarty, not just to earn but also to find answers on what happened to her mother nearly two decades ago.

Unfortunately, things do not always proceed as one planned. Despite her cautious nature and desire to stay out of sight, a cold pair of eyes falls on her, that soon refuses to leave her out of sight.

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.

In the waves of steam and machinery, who could achieve extraordinary? In the fogs of history and darkness, who was whispering? I woke up from the realm of mysteries and opened my eyes to the world.