MTL - After Breaking Up, I Still Dump All Sentient Beings - Chapter 50

Being the author of the breakout novel, Gates of The Primordials, Jarren Fletcher did not care about the constant critiques claiming he had a habit of treating extra characters as mere plot devices, creating and then dumping them once they’d served their purpose.To Jarren, it didn’t matter. Extras were just that—extras. All that mattered was the main character.But Jarren never expected to wake up in his own story, reincarnated as one of the meaningless, disposable extra characters, Deremiah Morcant—a coward who took his own life to escape the perilous challenges of the Gate Trials.Now, Jarren has to face those deadly challenges himself in the body of a weak, insignificant extra. He must find a way to survive in the rules of the dangerous world he had created, whilst also trying to save it.But time is running out. The next Wave is coming, and so are the paragons.

So to begin, this is technically a skyrim fanfic.Why isn't it in the fan-fics then?Simple! It's based on a game and I don't feel that counts as a fan-fic.Second, I've read like a few skyrim stories here lately. I liked them, as a bethesda fan boy... Well, now I need to take a crack at it. I literally start a new game of skyrim every new year. Its my tradition, so I felt I had to do this.If its bad, ah well. If its good, GREAT! Overall though, I feel we need more skyrim based stories or fan-fics. It has the perfect setting for the transmigration genre. Now read at your own risk.

The undisputed greatest doctor in Korea, Baek Gang Hyuk.

The hearse with the weird odor slowed to a stop before the entrance. The sound of pebbles could be heard bouncing on the ceiling. There were footsteps coming from the corridor, and there seemed to be someone sawing next door. The door knob to the room rattled slightly, and the faucet in the bathroom kept dripping even though it had been screwed shut. There was a rubber ball that rolled on its own underneath the bed. Wet footsteps started to surface one after another on the floor. At 3 am, Chen Ge held a cleaver in his hand as he hid beside the room heater. The call he was trying to make was finally answered. “Landlord, is this what you meant by ‘the house can be a little crowded at night’!?”