Cultural Invasion In Different World - Chapter 994

For Cain, the promised land of opportunity in the Pokémon World was not the paradise he imagined. Instead, he fell into the hands of the sinister Team Rocket, a prisoner on an island where darkness devours hope.However, even in the most desperate moments, fate did not abandon him entirely. A strange twist brings him back to the beginning of it all, to the place where his dreams were buried under the shadows.Now, with the knowledge and scars of his previous life, Cain has the chance to correct the course of his destiny.Free from the chains of the past, he must forge his own path in a world full of mysteries and dangers. With new allies and old enemies, the battle for his freedom will not be easy, but Cain has decided that this time he will not fail. Neither against the Pokémon nor the humans who stand in his way.

Pick one of the 100 lord characters to be the final winner of the game “Territory Wars”.I became the first person in the world to complete the game using the world’s worst shitty character, Otto de Scuderia.I’m thrilled to see my name in the Hall of Fame, but I’ve been possessed into the game in the body of Otto de Scuderia, the worst of the worst.The memory of the experience is clouding my mind, but…If there’s no turning back, let’s just enjoy it.This time as the real Otto de Scuderia.

Renji Kurozawa was just another nobody—until he died and was reincarnated in a world of swords and magic. Summoned alongside other “Chosen Heroes,” he hoped for a second chance at life.But his gift was different. “Death Claim”—the power to steal abilities from those he kills.Betrayed by his allies and left for dead, Renji embraces his dark power. With every enemy he slays, he grows stronger, turning from a forgotten outcast into the most feared force in the kingdom.Now, hunted as a villain and pursued by gods, Renji must carve his own path—one kill at a time.If fate wants a monster, he’ll give them one.

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.