I Reawakened as an Inferno Hero - Chapter 26: Extremats!

In a world brimming with magic and cloaked in mystery, the Book of Judgement Day wields extraordinary power capable of altering destinies, captivating many seekers and adventurers who yearn to uncover its secrets.The Gamma nation lies in ruins, yet the remnants of its profound mysteries cling to existence, particularly the fabled Book of Judgement Day, a relic sought after by numerous individuals despite the widespread doubt regarding its existence. Rinoa, a diligent student from the prestigious Atlantis School of Magic, embarks on a quest to unravel this enigma; however, as she prepares to depart, her teacher is unexpectedly attacked by a dark-cloaked figure, plunging her into a dramatic confrontation.Determined to pursue her quest, Rinoa defies the school's restrictions on her journey. In this critical moment, she encounters a young paladin named Fitran, who expresses willingness to join her mission—but only under the condition that she acquiesces to his stipulations. Who truly is Fitran, and will Rinoa agree to his terms, risking her mission for the sake of a partnership?

Not for the Alliance, nor for the Horde!

For the justice in our hearts, to seek an explanation for all the innocents, and to fight for those civilians who are ignored by the nobles, Vanessa VanCleef has set a small goal. I want to push Stormwind City first!

Ps: There is an old book with 5 million words, and the quality is guaranteed. Please rest assured to collect it.

Ps: Group numbers 639, 265, 715

- Description from novelbuddy

After she had transmigrated into the body of an abandoned wife of a little marquis in Ancient China, Su Nuan Nuan, a modern-day food lover was delighted!

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.