THE GENERAL'S DISGRACED HEIR - Chapter 308 : UNEXPECTED ARRANGEMENTS

[Unique Characteristic: You acquire ‘Protective Instinct’ (保護本能).]

He became a teacher at the best magic academy in the empire.
….For being mistaken for someone else.

Player: I’m a worker whose monthly salary doesn’t even hit $5,000. My monthly rental already takes up half of my salary, I don’t have a girlfriend and is reprimanded by my superior every day. However, I feel very happy because there has been a new virtual game recently. In the game, I have a powerful bloodline. Not only do I have my own fleet, I even have a powerful overlord that granted me a colonized planet. Although I know this is fake, but inside there, I found the meaning of my life!

Actually…the overlord who gave him the planet really wanted to tell him that this game wasn’t fake. (You really have your own fleet and colonized planet…) but the overlord knew that he couldn’t say this. Because, once he said it, these subjects who thought of themselves as ‘players’, would definitely not be as terrifyingly hardworking as now!!

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.