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 blank world did not remain blank for long.

‎Where there is breath, there is memory.

‎And where there is memory, even forgotten things find a way to return.

‎Soft glitches in the stillness.

‎But impressions—faint echoes from a reality that had already died.

‎They drifted through the unborn air like the sighs of discarded dreams. A song half-remembered, a scream never resolved. Darius felt them before he saw them: the weight of old griefs clawing back toward meaning.

‎Kaela froze mid-motion, her flickering forms stuttering like broken frames of forgotten reels. "They're coming," she said, voice layered with too many selves. "The ones that weren't written into the end."

‎From the soft void, a shape formed.

‎No longer clad in armor. No longer carrying pride.

Chapter 142 – Fractures of the Forgotten