Extra's Harem: Invincibility Starts with Marriage and lots of Children - Chapter 151- Orion’s Arrival

“Just once, I want to make it through the first stage of screening…”

A poor boy whose parents died accidentally found a mysterious space and set foot on the avenue of cultivating immortals. From then on, he planted spiritual herbs, refined elixir, opened shops, trained troops, and established a fairyland…

This article is about cultivating immortals and farming, not for mortals, not for stallions.

I am an extra. That is an undeniable fact. As a mere extra in a fantasy world filled with sparkling heroes, charming princesses, and mysterious antagonists, my existence is merely to serve as a backdrop for them. But I, Arkan, will not remain silent! Why be satisfied with being ordinary, when I can be extraordinary?In this world, I might be just a herb shopkeeper who doesn't even get to be in the main dialogue. But somehow, my life began to change after I accidentally obtained an Artifact That Extra Characters Should Not Be Able to Have.Now, with a power that invites more trouble than anything else, I struggle to avoid the attention of the main characters... or steal their attention?

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.