Pocket Hunting Dimension (WN) - Chapter 11: This Isn’t Right

The light-hearted love story of a (vampire) zombie and an idiot.

A genius magician, to fight against his fate to die a natural death from old age, grasped at the truth of magic to allow himself to reincarnate with a power he created himself.

The cycle of reincarnation is repeated multiple times and in his 31st reincarnation, the magician became a boy named Syril who lives in a village of elves.

However, that village is ruled by Humans, and the Elves are treated as livestock.

After becoming 14 years old, Syril, who regained his past knowledge and experience, stands up to help a girl, who is his childhood friend.

The story of the creation of an ideal country begins in that one village, a place where all races can coexist. Elves, Fox-girl, and various other Heroines.

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Karl, a young man stuck in a rough patch after losing his job and burning through almost all his savings, wandered through the cold, dark streets of Eldoria. On the damp, silent sidewalks, he stumbled upon something bizarre: an old gacha machine mysteriously appearing at every corner he turned, almost as if it was following him. Driven by a mix of curiosity and the overwhelming weirdness of the situation, Karl finally gave in and used his last bit of money on the machine. From the gacha ball, he pulled out a card with a barcode.Back in his cramped apartment, curiosity finally won over caution, and Karl scanned the barcode. To his shock, an app called “Common Sense Manipulation App” installed itself on his phone, claiming it could alter people's “common sense.”------Support Me By Gifts or Power Stones-----

The protracted ’witch hunting’ had faded into silence with the end of the Seven Years’ War, and the mysteries of the East Coast had begun to conceal themselves, yet gunpowder was on a rapid rise. Mo Qishang, who should have been utterly confounded, stood at the crossroads of destiny in the name of Arthur. He stared in astonishment at the charging knights, the wizards atop the high towers, and the bizarre wilderness. He felt the sharpness of the longsword and the recoil of the firearm, both clear and unfamiliar. At last, he excitedly shook his robe and, with a smile on his face, said— “Do not believe what I say, for to believe is to exist!”