Star Rank Hunter - Chapter 100: Red-And-Black Energy Deposit

Can you get used to dying? Not really.

When a particular universe was born, its seven primordial Concepts acquired an ego. Omniscient and omnipotent, they seek since to enrich their home. To do so, they plunder other universes, capture young civilizations and plagiarize ideas. Many monsters, gods, civilizations, and races are competing for the eighth throne.

Eons later, it is Earth's turn to be torn away from its Sun.

Humanity begins its integration by participating in a Tutorial. Priam has the luck and the misfortune to finish the Tutorial first. Luck because his reward is a form of pseudo-immortality. Misfortune, because as the champion of his civilization, he is transported to Elysium, the most dangerous world created by the Concepts. Nine out of ten champions lose their lives there on their first day. Fortunately for Priam, he has many lives.

A smutty LitRPG with a futa lead.Long-running. Support me at Pat.treon.com/winterwhereof and receive early chapters.***Levels. Skills. Dungeons.As a nineteen year old living in modern society, these are terms Zoey is aware of. But had she ever expected to experience these videogame abstractions in the literal sense? To struggle through monster-infested realms, earning skills, casting spells, and acquiring rare and magical items?Obviously not.And more than the strange environment she finds herself in, Zoey contends with the bizarre reality of her class. Of being summoned by a sensual, perverted goddess who has gleefully bestowed a throbbing length between Zoey’s legs, then sent her off with a single unhelpful instruction: to save the world, and ascend to divinity while doing so.It’s all a bit much.But with so many cute girls to lay conquest to, and a new piece of equipment to help her along the way … well, things could be much, much worse.

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.

“Corpse Processing” is over, but the lord has a lot to write, so this is it.

A person is a mage.

Three people are a team.

A group of people is a territory.

A group of people is the rise of an era.

I, Karen Heise, want to lead an era. If you think you are young and self-motivated enough, send your resume here.

My address: Gold Flash Town, the center of the world.

- Description from novelbuddy