The Heroine is My Stepsister, and I'm her Final Boss - Chapter 112: Forgive me not.

Warning contains-Incest/Ntr/ Heavy NetorareA Boy struggles with the problems of being raised in a family full of lewd older women.

I am an extra. That is an undeniable fact. As a mere extra in a fantasy world filled with sparkling heroes, charming princesses, and mysterious antagonists, my existence is merely to serve as a backdrop for them. But I, Arkan, will not remain silent! Why be satisfied with being ordinary, when I can be extraordinary?In this world, I might be just a herb shopkeeper who doesn't even get to be in the main dialogue. But somehow, my life began to change after I accidentally obtained an Artifact That Extra Characters Should Not Be Able to Have.Now, with a power that invites more trouble than anything else, I struggle to avoid the attention of the main characters... or steal their attention?

Gu Qing traveled to the Marvel world, activated the dimensional doll system, and obtained powerful dolls from other worlds.

Summoning Ghost Dance at the start? Wu Miserable and Twelve Ghost Moon.

But this is just the beginning.

The Witch Cult, the Penglei family, the Ten Blades, the Great Underground Tomb of Nazarick, Akatsuki, Godzilla, the Land of Light…

I don’t know since when, there has been one behind-the-scenes gesture after another in the Marvel world.

The world is dominated by movies, supplemented by comics.

Group number: 927609149

- Description from novelbuddy

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.