Restarting From Genesis - Chapter 127: A Cry for Help - IV

A young man with an extraordinary mind is off on an exciting adventure when he mysteriously wakes up in the body of a feeble slave-guy in a different, rich in quirks world.

The main character, a selfish jerk, would use extreme means to achieve his goals. However, he never allows his base instincts to overrule his sense of decency. He always pays back both good and bad deeds.

Will his (terrible/excellent) mentality help him make a fresh start? Will he get through misfortunes and hardships of the new world?

Due to being reincarnated into a financially struggling noble family, I had to find a way to make money.“Just wait one more day, and the next volume will be out!”“Next week is a hiatus? Are you out of your mind?”“Hurry up and give me the next volume!”“Quickly!”Before I knew it, I was overwhelmed with deadlines instead of romance.

Living carefree at home is the greatest shortcut—- My house is the world’s greatest magic power spot, that being the case both my house and I were summoned to another world by some guys who were aiming for it. However, I’ve been living in this place for many years and my body is, apparently, abnormally overflowing with magic. Due to some unforeseen circumstances by those guys who summoned me, they quickly ran away. Be that as it may, there are some ill-mannered people who covet the magic leaking out of my house. I won’t give up my house to those people! I’m going to wield my power as I please!

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.