Second World Novel - Chapter 275 - 275. Small Talks

Will people be conscious when they die? Yes, because I have experienced it.

Are there really ghosts in this world? Yes, because I am.

After borrowing the weight to give birth, He found out that he has a beautiful wife, sleep, still not sleeping?

- Description from MTL

Humanity’s first 8th Class Mage.

Betrayed, he traveled back 30 years into the past.

The story follows Ian Page, archmage and the first man to break through the 6th class, then through the 7th and become the most powerful mage, an 8th class mage.

After a lifetime of war and killing, the continent was finally unified thanks to his efforts. Now, old, his wish is to live the rest of his life in peace and try to find salvation for all the blood he spilled. However, his old friend, maddened by paranoia, couldn’t tolerate someone so powerful, so he betrayed Ian and killed him.

In his last breath, he cast a time magic that allowed him to travel back to when he was a young boy. With all the knowledge he previously had, he decided to do things better so he could end with less regrets.

It was understood that this was a capitalist country, where the possession of the greatest amount of capital determined to whom the nation effectively belonged.The smile that had been resting on William Sheffield’s face was abruptly erased as his expression turned cold. In a tone laced with determination, it was demanded by him that the police be contacted immediately so that they could crush those who stood in their way. The reasoning behind his words seemed clear: if such actions had been taken before by someone like Rockefeller, then why should it not also be possible for Sheffield?A sense of irony hung in the air as the sentiment was expressed—this was America, where each day seemed to unfold as though it were part of an ongoing shootout, with battles fought not just with guns but with power, influence, and wealth.

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times.

—— Dickens《A Tale of Two Cities》

I made myself a ghost back to life from death, with hatred in my bones and conspiracy brewed for years, sinking into the marsh, into the abyss. All I want is to bury the rotten roots, growing thistles and thorns which can kill like upas, to stab into the hypocritical civilization.

In the bottom of the muck……I found my lucida.

- Description from Novelupdates