Sword Saint's Reincarnation - Chapter 3: A New Life ()

Samul is a novel author. He enjoys writing novels and even reading other's works as well. But that's just it. Reading and writing novels. Those are the only things Samuel enjoyed in his whole life.

His parents were well-off and he didn't need to find a job to feed himself. Everything going well for him until he died, his health was worsening as the day went by.

Before he died he tried to write a thank you letter to his parents but he couldn't do that too.

The next thing he knows he wakes up in the world that he created, [Blade Of Destiny]. However, instead of transmigrating into the body of the main character or even a side character, the boy became an extra called Lucas Darkheart.

Who is Lucas Darkheat? No Idea! He's just an Extra in the novel! ...Or is he just an Extra?

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I transmigrated into the gacha game I abandoned for 10 years.But, the state of the heroes I raised is strange.

When we met for the first time in our first year of high school, he saw my contempt, but silently continued to clean;

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.