The Game at Carousel: A Horror Movie LitRPG - Chapter 97Book Five, : Not Quite The End

After 50 years of being in the position of Hwacheon Clan Leader, Kang-hyuk, widely renowned as 'The Dragon' retires.

Reborn in a world where martial arts reign supreme, Li Qian becomes a menial disciple of the Divine Sword Sect, assigned as the bell ringer.When ringing the bell, the sacrificial weapon system accidentally awakens, binding his life to the bell as his life-bound sacrificial weapon. As long as he rings the bell, he can enhance the sacrificial weapon.Moreover, the sacrificial weapon has one crucial characteristic.As long as the bell remains unbroken, the host is immortal.From then on, a path of eternal martial arts unfolds before Li Qian....Many years later, when the Divine Sword Sect faces a crisis of extermination, countless disciples kneel before the bell platform.“We beseech the ancestor to take action.”

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.