Dance with the Nightingale - Chapter 39 - 38: The Official Ceremony.

As Orson read the novel written by the girlfriend who had left him, he gently remarked on how terrible the story was. But then, noticing a foul smell coming from the kitchen, he went to investigate. He realized there was some kind of gas leak. Already furious about being dumped, Orson became even angrier at the state of his kitchen, and in his rage, he hit the light switch with a powerful punch. Naturally, the explosion that followed killed him instantly, and Orson passed into the afterlife.After spending some time in limbo, he found himself reincarnated in an unfamiliar world. However, he quickly realized he had been reborn inside the cliché-filled novel written by his ex-girlfriend. As if that wasn’t enough, he had ended up in the body of Neonidas, a useless duke who was also the fiancé of the story's villainess.____There may be a bit too much swearing and slang in the first chapters, but it gets less afterwards.There will be no yuri, bl or ntr in Neonidas(MC) harem

Doomsday crisis, zombies are attacking, the situation is critical.Don't let our enemies change from zombies coming at us to humans we protect behind us.“Brother, what would you do if I turned into an irredeemable zombie?”“…kill you.”“Then do you know what I would do if you turned into a zombie?”“Kill me.”“No,” he lifted her long hair, revealing her smooth neck.“You are crazy. I advise you to give up this irrational idea.”“Brother, this world has gone crazy.”

Welcome to NecroCorp – Where War is Always in Stock!“Now with 15% off main battle tanks, because peace is bad for business.”Hello, traveler!Looking for a bone-forged sword? A modular mana cannon? Perhaps... a discounted main battle tank for your next kingdom raid?Oh wait, you're not a customer, you're a reader.Right. This is probably where I give you my “tragic backstory.” Fine.I used to be human.Then I died.Now I'm a Lich with a factory in a dead dungeon, a skeleton workforce that doesn't need lunch breaks, salaries, and a magical system that rewards me for selling stuff. So, I did what any sane undead would do: I started an arms corporation.Now I sell weapons to orcs, goblins, elves, humans, anyone with a grudge and a pile of magic stones. Need siege engines? Got 'em. Crossbows that reload themselves? Yup. Flamethrower golems? In development.But here's the trick: you can’t sell weapons if there’s no war.So when the world started calming down... well, I may have encouraged a few border skirmishes. For marketing purposes. Nothing personal. War drives demand, after all.So, if you're here for drama, explosions, undead capitalism, and morally questionable business strategies wrapped in bone and steel, you’ve come to the right dungeon.Just don’t ask about the warranty.There isn’t one that lived to tell and ask about it.

This is my first original novel, it may be bad, but this is all in my mind and imagination. (Warning!! There will be an Incest genre) Thank you o⁠(⁠(⁠*⁠^⁠▽⁠^⁠*⁠)⁠)⁠o(oh yeah I forgot, this cover is not mine, I just edited it, if you feel you own it and don't like me using it, please tell me)