Cultivation: When you take things to the extreme - Chapter 532 - 323: Refining and Killing_2

When Peter is transported to a brutal system-driven world, where stats, skills, and paths to power are granted upon turning eighteen... He gets nothing.Thrown into a military training regime where the weak are discarded and the strong survive, Peter should have been erased.Alongside Thea, a fierce warrior, and Elric a determined healer, Peter claws his way forward. Creating and rediscovering the secrets of Cultivation and World Force.But as he defies the rules of the world, the world starts to notice.

In the end times, Gu Chengyu crosses over to an ancient and fictional Dynasty, becoming the most cherished peasant's son in the family.Since I have become a boy, let's lead the whole family to earn money and become prosperous!Who knew the old mother insists on becoming an imperial decree wife, how to deal with this matter?This text features a powerful golden finger.

A letter to break off the engagement leads Ling Family in Tangyang to endless doom. And he, Ling Zhang, is tortured to death after his legs are cruelly broken.

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.