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Sea Sick Jokes

Isekai Customer Service Is A Joke!

Like any 18 year old high school student, Kim Ji-Hye was just busy struggling with expectations and exams. The biggest worries? Overbearing parents and college entrance exams. That, of course, was the case until she accidentally found herself in an unexpected circumstance that led straight into the glowing gates of death! One moment, she was zoning out on an empty school corridor. The next? She was smack in the middle of a field that was way too over dramatic with the moon lighting up the surrounding and to add to it all, questioning all her life decisions. “What the hell? Where the HELL AM I?" Before she managed to figure out whether she had been taken hostage, sedated, or was indeed deceased, the reality had another surprise in store for her. The field evaporated. She was now in a never-ending white void. “Ah right, that is just brilliant. Another case of teleportation. Is my life really that boring that I actually find this exciting?” “Why do you think so?” a deep, unbothered voice replied. Ji-Hye screamed. Floating, there in front of her was a god that was the epitome of ‘a literal god.’ “WHO ARE YOU?” The God sighed. “Welcome Ji-Hye. I do not really know how you made it here, but… yeah, this is awkward.” Ji-Hye blinked. “Am I dead?” "Is that your final guess?" "Nope." “Then where am I?” "Alternate reality." “And how did I get here?” "Because your universe's God did an ‘oopsie’ and misplaced you." “Excuse me?” Apparently, some celestial treasure named Ezekiel was supposed to keep her safely in her time screwed up so badly that she ended up in a reality she wasn’t even supposed to exist in. THANKS EZEKIEL! "So what now?" Ji-hye asked, still trying to process the fact that divine beings are capable of making stupid mistakes The god who introduced himself in a head-turning fashion as Kashigami sighed once more. “Well, I need to send you back… but the thing is, I have no clue which universe is yours. So it might take some time.” “And how long is ‘some time’?” “Perhaps 500 years.” Ji-hye’s eyes had never been so wide. “WHAT IN THE FU–” And there started the journey which I (the author) could describe in many different ways, but for Ji-hye, it was undoubtedly the most unhinged. ✨ READ NOW TO FIND OUT: ✔ How does Ji-hye handle being an anomaly? ✔ Will Kashigami ever be useful? (Spoiler: Probably not.) ✔ Will she ever return home, or is she stuck in this SPACE WARP forever? 5K VIEWS CELEBRATION! JOIN THE DISCORD SERVER https://discord.gg/9Y2KUg3e code is "Ji-hye"
kappe · 12.5K Views

To Sleep In The Sea Of Time

This is a story of a guy who loses everything, and then gets it back. Same old new world story, just a different kind of story teller. *** They took away our hunter tags. They had us grow our hair. They gave us a new brand, when we were over there. They staged us out of Dragur, East of the Olim Horn. I guess they call us Slaves, but no one calls us much anymore. There is no fun in killing. I don't want to do it anymore. Karn brought Sorrow. Pookie brought Fear. Milk brought the fly boys. They did work in Undia. I worked mostly clandestine. Some Legends I should not say. We played with better wands. I could use the extra pay. Did Mara give the order? Did venom pay the way? They said we were slaying demons, but it was kind of hard to tell. There is no fun in killing. I don't want to do it anymore. This was before HALO, and Codex was king. Hej atop the rider, he never felt a thing. When our rider caught a spell, and both the mages killed. It pitched us over sideways on some cold Sylph hill. My back felt like it was broken, my legs I could not feel. I kept on slaying demons, but it was kind of hard to tell. There is no fun in killing. I don't want to do it anymore. I never did heal up right from injuries sustained Officially in Torin, unofficially we train. I remember all their faces. They dream about me still. I guess I'm slaying demons, but it's kind of hard to tell. There no fun in killing. I don't want to do it anymore. I speak the cold logistic, that old boys speak so well. Veni, Vedi, Vici. I'll see you in Hel. Maybe it's bravado, or an unspeakable guilt. That village, they were demons, but it was kind of hard to tell. There is no fun in killing. I don't wanna to do it anymore. I've done plenty. What is one more? -Corb Lund *** Come guess me this riddle. What beats shire leaves and fiddle? What is hotter than pleasures touch, and whiter than cream? What best wets his whistle? What is clearer than crystal? What is sweeter than honey and stronger than steam? What will make the lame walk? What will make the dumb talk? What is the elixir of life and philosopher's stone? And what helped Pookie-Baba dig up a tunnel, that runs from Shalamanda to West-Torin? When you are digging a crater, It is the best thing in nature, for sinking your sorrows and raising your joys. Sometimes I wonder, if lightning and thunder, is made out of the plunder, of the reddest hiski and oils. *** If you can keep your head when all about you, are losing theirs and blaming it on you. If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you, but make allowance for their doubting too. If you can wait and not be tired by waiting, or being lied about, don’t deal in lies, or being hated, don’t give way to hating, And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise. If you can dream, and not make dreams your master. If you can think, and not make thoughts your aim. If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster, and treat those two impostors just the same. If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken, twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools, or watch the things you gave your life to, broken, and stoop and build them up with worn-out tools. If you can make one heap of all your winnings, and risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss and lose, and start again at your beginnings, and never breathe a word about your loss. If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew, to serve your turn long after they are gone, and so hold on when there is nothing in you; Except the Will which says to them ‘Hold on!’ If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue, nor walk with Kings, nor lose the common touch. If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you. If all men count with you, but none too much. If you can fill the unforgiving minute, with sixty seconds worth of distance, run. Yours is the World and everything that’s in it, and which is more you’ll be a Man, my son. - Rudyard Kipling
man_of_culture3030 · 704.5K Views

Across the Huron Sea: Lust For Life

Seized by a panic such as she had never experienced in the 21 short years of her life, Mira scrambled against the man's grip, and a whiff of blood mingled with an intoxicating scent of cedar. “Shh,” he murmured, lowering his head. Pressed against his firm chest, she gulped at the dark red seeping through his shirt ivory white. She risked a glimpse up. Under a silver-black phantom half mask was a sculpted face, strands of jet-black hair sweeping his cheeks. Contrasting his pale complexion were those burgundy red lips, above which, a straight nose cast a shadow on his thin eyes the color of onyx. He glanced down at her, his gaze otherworldly. “If you’re thinking of getting on the back of the truck,” he wheezed, his larynx heaving. “Bad idea.” Deep like the rumbling sea and magnetic, his gravelly voice threatened to drown any audience. ----- History repeats itself. In a world ten thousand years after ours perishes, the planet is ruled by the First World, consisting of the Commonwealth and the Republic across the Huron Sea. 21-year-old Mira de Armas must escape the Commonwealth after a posse of vigilantes who called themselves the Reds started a revolution and persecuted her stepfather till his death. Disguised as a boy, she smuggles herself to the Republic. As she tries to escape from the Customs, she is caught by the most wanted man of the First World, the last drug lord who has taken out all the Republican cartels. The man offers to take her to safety in exchange for helping him to a bunker and treating his wound from the gunshot. Left with no choice, Mira joins forces with the man and learns that he is Dr. Warshon Qusbecq, a renowned physician by day. As their journey uncovers old memories and reveals the conspiracy behind the election of the First World Premier, their relationship evolves from suspicion to mutual dependence and affection. Through intellectual sparring and the exchange of personal stories, they reveal emotional vulnerabilities to each other that they hide from the rest of the world. Drawing on her own experiences in the Commonwealth, Mira sees the truth as she falls into the dark: that darkness exists exactly because the light is shining and enjoyed on the other side. I hope you'll enjoy this romantasy.
Ali_Gin · 12.3K Views
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