Dorothy's Forbidden Grimoire - Chapter 238: Investigation

Can you get used to dying? Not really.

When a particular universe was born, its seven primordial Concepts acquired an ego. Omniscient and omnipotent, they seek since to enrich their home. To do so, they plunder other universes, capture young civilizations and plagiarize ideas. Many monsters, gods, civilizations, and races are competing for the eighth throne.

Eons later, it is Earth's turn to be torn away from its Sun.

Humanity begins its integration by participating in a Tutorial. Priam has the luck and the misfortune to finish the Tutorial first. Luck because his reward is a form of pseudo-immortality. Misfortune, because as the champion of his civilization, he is transported to Elysium, the most dangerous world created by the Concepts. Nine out of ten champions lose their lives there on their first day. Fortunately for Priam, he has many lives.

One day, in front of my eyes appeared a silver-haired Goddess.

What kind of bullsh*t is this woman spouting?

“…What?”

No, I’m not.

The notion of destiny is mysteriously unfathomable! Some fight to the death but fail to grasp it, ultimately regretting their journey on the path of immortality. Yet there are those who are born with great destiny, not only blessed with innate talent, their luck is defying the heavens. Heavenly Grade Techniques, rare treasures, Elixirs, no matter where they go, they encounter them! One day, the treasure-hoarding Clan Leader sent a message, “There are too many treasures, our Family’s Treasure Vault can’t hold them all!” Upon hearing this, Lin Tianming couldn’t help but smile wryly. “It seems like treasures have eyes of their own, always finding me when I go out, but this isn’t what I intended at all!” PS: This book is also known as “I don’t want to be the son of Qi Luck!” “I really don’t want to pick up garbage anymore!”

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.