I Became an Artist in a Romantic Comedy - Chapter 7

Mc unexpectedly got into a very funny accident during a mission and died then reincarnated in this new wonderful world.

Before reincarnating he met a very beautiful goddess who unexpectedly took him as a student under his one wish which the goddess decided to grant him.

He learnt various kinds of things under goddess teachings and spent 1000 years practising them by heart under her watch.

Mc wisely used those years to learn everything he can handle and was sure he would need them.

So that’s how he got the knowledge to become Op quickly with a bonus as an eternal companion, Aashi.

After reincarnating in this world he started to fulfil his dreams one by one like having a big family with multiple beautiful and capable wives, and along the way conquering multiple realms.

After fulfilling most of his desires he sat in a peaceful home and said, “Now I can say for sure, my wish as a lazy otaku has been fulfilled. I remember I haven’t seen the new anime, my lovely wives, do any of you want to watch this anime together with me as I starting so hurry up otherwise, you will miss it.”

Disclaimer:

This is the story of Lazy Otaku who got the chance to fulfil his long-cherished wish.

So come join our 1000year old otaku soul, in his journey to be horne..cough…I mean a journey to conquer countless realms and how he makes the strongest & largest family in all the realms.

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The curtains to an epic of a continental power struggle are pulled open. There’s an entire empire in Dane’s heart!

Churches, tribes, prisons, forests, castles, graveyards, abysses . . . He controls the bases of all seven races in the fantasy epic war game, [Heart of Dynasty]; right before his eyes is the throne of a monarch!

Elf rangers pull your bows, the heavy-armoured knights are charging!

The Caesar Empire has collapsed. An era of war for the new ruler arises. The Kingdom sends endless expeditions; the Northern Alliance is unwilling to be excluded; the abyss and death begin to stir as they gaze upon the continent. Plots, tricks, religious wars. . . amidst these battles, only the victor can be called powerful!

Dane, holding a blade dripping with blood, says with bared teeth, “f*ck! Let me use my ass to see whether that seat at the top is comfortable or not!”

- Description from Novelupdates

A fickle, decadent, wilful person going through life like it’s a game.

An experienced, logical mind that’s above feelings.

This was a relationship that had started off with “Carpe Diem”, but slowly turned into a bloodless, psychological battle. They shared a mutual distrust, but also mutual attraction. As they suspected and tested each other, challenging each other’s limits, they both fell into the enemy’s hands with their eyes wide open. Sentiments growing amidst ignorance, they finally, were caught in their own traps.

Winner takes all,

Loser stands small.

- Description from Novelupdates

war, blood, and betrayal carved him into something else. A legend. A killer. A mercenary whose name struck fear into both criminals and so-called heroes alike.But now, the world had changed. Lines blurred between right and wrong, between justice and vengeance. Should he step into the light, wear the mask of a hero, and fight for a cause greater than himself? Or should he embrace the darkness that had always been his home, a place where morality was just another illusion?“Don’t box me in with your shallow ideas of good and evil,” he muttered, his voice calm but edged with danger. “I do what I want, when I want.”The air was thick with tension as he moved like a shadow through the dimly lit room. The writer had no time to react—one moment, he was scribbling nonsense about legends and myths; the next, a cold barrel pressed against the back of his head.The figure smirked beneath his mask, eyes gleaming with something between amusement and menace.“You wanna write fiction?” he whispered. “Then let me show you how real legends are made.”A single gunshot shattered the silence.As the writer’s body slumped over the desk, the man holstered his weapon, stepping into the faint glow of a flickering neon light.“It’s that simple,” he said, his voice unwavering. “I’m Deathstroke.”