Era of Galactic Elves: Starting with the Primordial Spirit of Enlightenment - Chapter 47 - First-Class Star? Mewsi Breaks Through to Galactic Level!

I was just your average burnout. Now I’m a kobold in a dungeon where everything wants to eat me—and frankly, I get it. I look delicious.Reincarnated as the weakest possible monster in the worst possible place, I start with nothing but panic, backward knees, and a skill called Civilization Mimicry—which is sealed. Because of course it is.But survival isn't the story.This is the story of what comes after.Of finding meaning in the scraps. Of building law from ashes. Of kindling memory in a place designed to erase.Because even if the world sees kobolds as nothing, I’ve seen what we used to be.And I’m going to bring it back.Firelight by firelight. Burial by burial. One fragile tradition at a time.Because if the world wants kobolds to be nothing?Then I’ll teach it what nothing becomes when it learns to dream.

All my life, I never once know what it is to be a family. My parents did not care about me and didn't let me start with my siblings.Even when I diagnose with Terminal Illness by the doctor, they did not care about me.The only thing that accompanies me in this lonely hospital bedroom is the game called Second Life. Sadly, all good things must end, and so is Second Life.I decide to stay inside the game until the end and wait for me to release my final breath.However, I'm reincarnated to another life when I open my eyes. I promise to enjoy my Second Life in this world.Now, if only this woman stopped calling me a villain for a second, that would be great.

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.

Every novel has a low IQ supporting female that serves as a foil to the female lead’s good and beautiful sides. She’s the stepping stone on the path of love between the male and female leads, destined to live her life doing stupid things until her tragic end.

One day, all of the villainous supporting females came to their senses. They began to rebel! And quit! For the sake of world order, the System found a human to take their place.

World 1: The female lead risks her life to shield the male lead while the supporting female quakes in a corner (and watches the show)

Male Lead: ?? So you never loved me.

Supporting Female: He finally found out, looks like my job was a success. The end of the year bonus is mine!

Male Lead: ?!

A fun and breezy quick-transmigration story~

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