Rebirth: My Reclusive Husband Helps Me Get Revenge! - Chapter 8: You’ll be dancing with me only

As the era of dragons gradually came to an end, as arcane masters left countless riches and legends under the starry sky, one awakened youngster after another began to set foot on their journey.

A 29 year old civil employment exam student wakes up in a blank white room and meets a baby angel. This baby angel informs him that he died in his sleep due to heart disease like his father and grandfather. Remembering his mom and their last conversation he says that he will take on a series of life and death tests that the baby angel offers him. From this point on he must put his life on the line and fight in the stage called ‘Arena’. And Every time he clears a test he will gain abilities and weapons to increase his strength. All to clear the tests and get his life back. This is his story of his fights in the ‘Arena’.

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.

This is the story of a super soldier! This is the story of a super soldier!