Reborn As A Ghost: Time To Build My Undead Army! - Chapter 1303: Artorias’ Incredible Powers

Samul is a novel author. He enjoys writing novels and even reading other's works as well. But that's just it. Reading and writing novels. Those are the only things Samuel enjoyed in his whole life.

His parents were well-off and he didn't need to find a job to feed himself. Everything going well for him until he died, his health was worsening as the day went by.

Before he died he tried to write a thank you letter to his parents but he couldn't do that too.

The next thing he knows he wakes up in the world that he created, [Blade Of Destiny]. However, instead of transmigrating into the body of the main character or even a side character, the boy became an extra called Lucas Darkheart.

Who is Lucas Darkheat? No Idea! He's just an Extra in the novel! ...Or is he just an Extra?

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The vast seas are filled with abundant resources but are also home to numerous sea demons, making it a place difficult for human cultivators to tread.One day, Lu Li crosses into the vast and boundless sea realm of immortal cultivation, carrying with him a magical beast-refining pot that can transform into various sea monsters, allowing him to roam the seabed.While cultivators on the islands struggle for a single spiritual herb, Lu Li has already built an underwater spiritual farm base.Watch him strategize step by step, leaving a footprint with every move, as he grows into a top-tier power in the world of immortal cultivation. Looking back after countless years, the days spent fighting sea demons, refining evil spirits, and treasure hunting in the deep sea remain vivid in his memory...

On that fateful day, a voice in the sky told everyone on Earth that the world they called home has just been part of some sort of simulation.

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.