Medical Sovereign - Chapter 9 Enemies Will Meet in a Narrow Road

Have you ever thought about how your life would turn out at the age of 18?Well before I could even say that I was an adult to even say I was going to conquer it.The world had seemed to already be determined of what mine and the rest of humanity would be when the first Leviathans was made public to our world.

I Will Live as an Actor is a heartwarming story of a young man who grows up poor as the son of a widowed fishmonger.Fueled by a passion for acting, he neglects his mother and her sacrifices, only to regret it when she passes away.In a twist of fate, he is reincarnated back to his youth, just before he went down the wrong path.Determined to live a better life and honor his mother’s memory, he embarks on a journey to become a successful actor while also being a filial son.

I found a girl of unknown origin outside; she claims to be a time traveler from a post-apocalyptic era.Great calamity is imminent, with abominations spreading across the land, human civilization annihilated, and even the world itself shattering, all beyond redemption.As for myself,I am considering how to confine this beautiful girl, who has temporarily lost her powers, within my home.

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.