MTL - The Transmigration Routine of Always Being Captured by ML - Chapter 69 Holy Sorcerer 32

Somebody once told a joke.A man ran in place all his life. He worked a job he didn't love for people he couldn't stand. But at the end of the day, the number in his bank account went up.That man got a second chance at life. He woke up in another world, full of adventures and romances and monsters and gods. And floating above his head he saw the number “1”. So what did he say?“Gosh I better make the number go up.”Not today. Not for this old soul. Reborn as a beast of battle meant to live a short life and die screaming, Garek refuses. He puts the madness of skills and levels behind him and sets out to found a little farmstead. He grows crops. Maybe someday he'll get a pig, and have bacon.It's a shame the world won't let him be. It's a shame that the warmongers and level-grinders hate nothing more than a soul at peace.He put down his sword for a plowshare, but when trouble comes calling, he'll pick it up again.

He was the hunting hound of the Baskerville family.

But at the end, he was branded as a traitor and executed.

— — —

Now, he has returned… after 40 years.

“This time, they will be my prey… and I’ll bite every single one of them to death!”

“Doc, it’s like the game I made is becoming a reality.”“Isn’t that nice? People are under so much pressure at work these days, but you can get away from it all, play the game, and live the life of your dreams.”“But I’m a famous ghost story game designer, I’ve conceived one hundred and twenty-six mu*der cases, portrayed dozens of mu*derers with different personalities, and to find material I’ve watched ninety-five thriller movies, more than four hundred horror comics, and collected more than two thousand urban weird tales. Now they all seem to be true!”“So …… do I look familiar to you?”

The hearse with the weird odor slowed to a stop before the entrance. The sound of pebbles could be heard bouncing on the ceiling. There were footsteps coming from the corridor, and there seemed to be someone sawing next door. The door knob to the room rattled slightly, and the faucet in the bathroom kept dripping even though it had been screwed shut. There was a rubber ball that rolled on its own underneath the bed. Wet footsteps started to surface one after another on the floor.
At 3 am, Chen Ge held a cleaver in his hand as he hid beside the room heater. The call he was trying to make was finally answered. “Landlord, is this what you meant by ‘the house can be a little crowded at night’‽”

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