Simulation Towards Immortality In A Group Chat - Chapter 718 - 208: Great Opportunity in the Secret Realm! Cultivation Soars! _2

The “S-rank Hero Factory” that raised 1,000 S-rank heroes.

The graduates’ manufacturing machine.

The strongest support.

These are all words that refer to me. But could this actually be the world of that game?

I am Stephen, assistant to Vegapunk. After transmigrated to the One Piece world and failing in the attempt to take down Imu in collaboration with the Revolutionary Army, I unexpectedly found myself transmigrated again, this time to the Pokémon world.Although my body has become smaller, my mind remains as sharp as ever. My current identity is:The Chief Pokémon Professor of the Pokémon LeagueA mind 500 years ahead of its timeExecutive Vice-Leader of Team RocketThe second Master-level Trainer after Professor RowanThe benefactor recognized by Rayquaza as its successorHonorary Chairman of the Alola LeagueSupreme Commander of Dark Pokémon!

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.