Regressor Instruction Manual - Chapter 13: Embarrassment (1)

This is a world where civilization and savagery, rudeness and grace coexist,

The flag of the skeleton is flying,

The smell of gunpowder lingers,

Here are coins and muskets!

Here are women and rum!

Sail!

Towards freedom!

PS: This article is inspired by the Pirates of the Caribbean, no empire hegemony, and aims to enjoy the wonderful adventure brought by the romantic ocean!

- Description from novelbuddy

He said coolly: “One million a month, stay with me!” She raised her eyebrows and smiled: “Pay a 30% deposit first, no credit!” Show no mercy. When the contract expired, she turned around gracefully, and when he chased after her, she found that there was already a kid the size of a kid beside her…

- Description from novelbuddy

A young man dies tragically while trying to stop a robbery—only to awaken in complete darkness, lost between life and death.As his memories return, he discovers that he’s been reincarnated into a new world brimming with magic, Soul Weapons, and mystical powers. Reborn as Ares into a loving family, he quickly realizes that this world is far from peaceful. Armed with an SSS-Rank Trait and a Unique Ability, he faces every challenge head-on as he searches for his purpose in this strange new reality.

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.