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Tiger Character

That not so important character turned out to be important

Shaun’s life was already in free-fall: fired from a suspiciously shady job, drowning his sorrows in questionable alcohol, and wrapping things up with a classic car crash. The universe, in its infinite wisdom, decided this wasn’t rock bottom—nope, Shaun was getting reincarnated. But not as a hero. Not even as a sidekick. Nope, Shaun wakes up as **Shaun** (no, not a typo)—a tragic background extra from a fantasy novel. You know, the kind of character whose job is to exist solely for pain, ridicule, and the occasional wallet-theft subplot. This Shaun? Father walked out. Mother ghosted him for a "better future." Property sharks, mobsters, and scam artists all sniffing around what little he owns. But hey, he somehow clawed his way into a prestigious academy! A chance at redemption, right? Wrong. Enter stage left: bullies. First, the villains make him a punching bag. Then the so-called *heroes* decide, "Yeah, let’s take turns too!" Normally, this poor soul would accept his fate, because that’s what he’s written to do. But reincarnated Shaun? He didn’t read that memo. He has… let’s say, *creative solutions* to his problems. Where the original Shaun took beatings with a grimace, this Shaun hands out payback with a cold smile and zero guilt. Bullies? Meet karma, wielded like a sledgehammer. But something’s off. The script’s changing. People are acting weird. They’re *recognizing* him, approaching him like they know secrets he hasn’t been briefed on. And that internal monologue habit he has? Turns out it’s not so internal anymore. A growing number of eavesdroppers think his sarcastic, third-person narration is… important. please do not leave any review both positive or negative until you have read first 20 chapter new chapter is uploaded daily monday to saturday I AM ALSO UPLOADING SAME SERIES ON ROYAL ROADS UNDER THE NAME VOIDLORD
kingorka_official · 35.2K Views

A Time of Tigers - From Peasant to Emperor

There is a sense for greatness. Some people carry it around like a bad smell. They make us stop on the street, and look their way, whether we wish to or not. Their appearance might be ordinary, but there’s something about them, something beyond the norm. Something that makes you almost wish to bend the knee to them. Our kings have likely had that something, those that came from nothing but ashes and ruin, in times of trouble and famine, where the hearts of the masses are restless, and they need a cause to bind to. What makes them choose one man over another? It is my contention that there is a true gravity to such individuals. That progress, or competence, or greatness itself carries a weight. That a man might grow greater in the dark, and whether he wishes it or not, by the sheer gravity of his existence, tigers will make their way towards his door, catching his scent in the wind. The tigers hide themselves in the forests, in villages unknown, amongst the peasantry, but sooner or later, it does seem, that they are always cast into the light. It requires an immense effort of will to keep them hidden. A man of such a gravity will see themselves risen, without will, to ranks beyond that of the norm – in times of peace, they might rise high indeed. But in times of chaos? When the world is in upheaval, when every piece in up in the air? Then a tiger from the most lowly of starts, with a competency – a density – beyond belief, as if they were a different creature entirely – they might go all the way. They might be the creature that – though a peasant themselves – the peasantry themselves kneel to. They might go further, and make the soldiery kneel, and then even the nobles after them. And a special class, beyond all others, might go even further still, and snatch a crown the head of a king, on a flurry of brilliant victories, on a story so overwhelming it almost might have seemed preordained. It is those men that we ought to fear, and it those men that we will eternally be at the mercy of. It is those men that we do the honour of addressing as our kings, and our emperors.
Nick_Alderson · 1.3M Views

The Huntsman Of Death:A Gamer's POV As Side Character

[WSA 2025 Entry] [You have inherited The Class Huntsman Of Death.] ...... Deathborne. A game that I couldn’t stop playing in my free time.  A game that hooked me to the core. A game that I was determined to finish and achieve the true happy ending by hook or crook. You might be wondering why. It's because no matter what choices I made, no matter how much I tried, it always ended with a bad ending. An ending with the protagonist winning at the cost of innumerable sacrifices and being left alone as the last surviving human. Would you enjoy a movie, novel, or game that ends with only the hero surviving? Would you like such an ending? Of course not. Neither could I. That's why I tried my hardest and kept trying. Alas, despite all my efforts, I have yet to reach the true happy good ending. That's why I kept on grinding to achieve a good ending until I got that message. [Congratulations, player Mr. Per781, for clearing all hidden conditions. You are now eligible to access the hidden route, as deemed by the game developer.]  [Do you want to proceed?]  [Yes] [No]  In the next moment, I felt my soul getting dragged by and my consciousness getting detached from the main body. Being a hardcore otaku, I knew what was going on. I almost showed a middle finger and screamed, "I will commit suicide in another world if you drag me." Just then hand emerged from the screen and pulled me into the monitor leaving the room empty which resonated with my last words. "FUCKING HELLLL!"
Lonelythree · 159.1K Views

Skill Forge: Broken Extra Character

Amidst the eerie silence of an unfamiliar hall, a cacophony of confused voices rose, mingling in a chorus of bewilderment. "Where are we?" "What happened?" "I thought I died!" Each utterance hung in the air, a testament to the collective disbelief gripping the room. As the haze of confusion lifted, disjointed memories surfaced, fragments of lives cut short by tragedy. "I remember... I was stabbed..." ventured one voice, echoed by another's affirmation of a similar fate. "I... I died in a plane crash," muttered a third, only to be met with a stunned agreement from a fellow survivor. Amidst the chaos of bewildered voices, one man stood apart, his expression a mask of contemplation amidst the turmoil. As his companions recounted their brushes with death, his mind churned with questions, each more confounding than the last. "I got shot... I remember it vividly," he murmured to himself, his voice barely audible above the din. "So how am I still here?" The enigma of their shared resurrection gnawed at him, compelling him to seek answers in the depths of his memories. With each revelation of a paired demise—a male and female, bound by the same tragic fate—a flicker of recognition ignited within him. "This... this seems familiar," he mused, the pieces of a puzzle slowly coalescing in his mind. But the picture remained incomplete, obscured by the fog of uncertainty that shrouded their surroundings. As the words "pairs, pairs, pairs" echoed in his mind like a cryptic mantra, a sudden realization struck him with the force of a revelation. "It can't be... don't tell me..." he whispered, his voice trembling with disbelief. With a sense of urgency, he began to scan his surroundings, searching for any sign or clue that could confirm his suspicions. Then, as if guided by an unseen force, his gaze shifted upwards, and there, bathed in an ethereal light, stood an angelic figure with golden apparel, its gaze fixed upon him with a warm smile. The sight took his breath away, filling him with a mixture of awe and trepidation. The man's heart raced as faced a real angel, his mind struggling to comprehend the surreal encounter unfolding before him. The angel's words, spoken with an air of amusement, only deepened the enigma shrouding their meeting. "I never expected anyone to notice me," the angel remarked, a hint of playfulness in its voice. "I was concealing my presence to let everyone fully calm down, but to think someone noticed me. Just who are you?" Ethan's disbelief and confusion intensified at the angel's question. "Eh... Ethan Rivers," he stammered, his voice barely above a whisper. As Aurelia, the angel, finally revealed himself to the bewildered assembly, a hush fell over the room, each soul drawn in by his radiant presence and commanding aura. Ethan's gaze lingered on Aurelia. "Greetings, lost souls," Aurelia declared, his voice resonating with a majestic power that seemed to fill the very air around them. "I am Aurelia, and I shall be your guide to your new life." As Aurelia extended his arms in a gesture of welcome, Ethan felt a surge of rage and hesitation, "This it bad, really bad."
Dark_Eyez · 1M Views
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