Humanity's Great Sage - Chapter 696: You Are Doomed

Disclaimer: This story doesn't belong to me, I posted it here just to use the audio book feature of the app.For most, becoming a member of the Elite 4 would be the culmination of their Journey. A great achievement that solidified your status in the annals of history. For me, it was just the start of my journey. Hopefully, everything stays Normal.A pre-canon self-insert into the world of Pokémon.

When the Terminally Ill Noble Allenbert woke up from his fever, he realized that he was the reincarnation of Karzan, the mad dog who roamed the underworld.…But something about this place doesn’t feel right.“Allenbert, nobles need secrets and darkness.”The sinister and chilling schemes of his brother, like a snake, are suffocating him from all sides.“You’ve been causing quite a stir lately.”The powerful and authoritative eyes and ears of the head of the family are hidden everywhere, watching him.“…When will I see Mother?”Meeting his mother, who has secluded herself due to a mental illness, seems impossible.“But it’s okay.”Karzan failed, but Allenbert’s journey is just beginning.“Two lives, two revenges.”There’s no mercy.I’ll pay back with interest, and make sure it’s done properly.

“When the Lord Jesus comes for the second time, those who died in Christ’s name will be raised from the grave first.”

– “1 Thessalonians 4:16”

In 2019, an outbreak of zombie virus quickly swept the world within months.

Communications were interrupted, water and electricity support ceased, chemical plant leaked, nuclear power plant exploded, the world was reduced to be like hell on earth; without God, it became an era of legends and saviors, with the fire of survival instinct rekindled within mortals.

Resident Evil zombie-theme in ABO setting.

- Description from Novelupdates

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.