Black Tech Internet Cafe System - Chapter 798: A Commemorative Album of Youth

Being abandoned by his very own blood, the world stripped him of everything, his glory, his weapon, his beloved and even his name was taken away. He tried to reclaim what were rightfully his but the people already treated him as an outcast.With nothing left to do, he strode towards the place of no return and as he reached the deepest part by accident, he found a sealed casket with an unusual question engraved on its lid.'If the world's destruction would be put in the palm of your hand, how would it end?'Thousands of choices, hundreds of possibilities, and tens of answers, yet just one of these was certain.“I'll carve it with my enemies' blood,” he uttered underneath the moonless sky.On his hand was a blade made of glass, dripping with a crimson, sticky substance. In an era where war was an everyday occurrence and death was nothing but a mere consequence of being weak, his journey towards the labyrinth of revenge had begun.- - - - -Read at least six chapters and please be prepared to crave the rest. Enjoy Reading!

I never thought I could become a hunter.I never thought I would get the chance.But that wasn’t true.「 ‘Tower of Trials’ has selected all suitable candidates from Earth. 」「 Please select your difficulty. 」「The chosen difficulty will be directly proportional to your rewards. 」I was given a chance now.A special one at that.

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.