Bri_ght8491

Warning: This novel contains explicit adult content, violence, and a ruthless anti-hero MC. Read at your own risk. 

I was the strongest player in the world—until they betrayed me.

When I woke up, I wasn’t a player anymore. I was just an NPC. A nameless mob, doomed to be farmed for EXP and discarded like trash.

But then, I heard it:

(You have been killed.)
(Unique Skill Activated: Infinite Resurrection.)
(Each death makes you stronger.)

Every time a player slaughters me, I steal their stats, their skills, and their power. I evolve beyond the system’s control, beyond the limits of this world.

They thought I was nothing.
They thought they could use me, farm me, erase me.

Now, I am the final boss—and I will make them suffer.
On the battlefield, and in my bed.

They will submit. One way or another.

God of Death: Rise of the NPC Overlord

The stars in that dream-sky flickered like code-glitches—constellations twitching in and out of shape. Darius stood on a barren cliff not of this world, but of some other—a realm written in ancient functions, predating emotion, time, and even death. Below him, legions knelt, nameless shadows awaiting his command. His voice, when he spoke, was not his own.

> "They will fall. Their gods. Their code. Their love. All of it."

He awakened with a violent gasp, the shadows of that voice still clawing at the walls of his soul.

Celestia was already at his side, her aura dimmed, concern flooding her violet eyes. "You spoke… as another," she whispered. "It wasn't a dream, Darius. I felt it too."

He rose from the stone altar, each movement stiff with tension. "It felt like a memory… but not mine."

"No," she said softly. "It wasn't."

Chapter 62: A Memory Not His Own