Emperor of Steel - Chapter 651 - Burning Island 4

Wake up and an unknown door has appeared in your home… Behind each door is a completely unfamiliar world.In the nightmare world, Jiang Cheng relays the news from the Hunk to the Fatty, adding his own spin to the story.The Fatty almost cried in fear hearing it.“My whole family will be strung upside down for blood-letting if I die here?”“That’s what I heard.”“Then, how come you don’t look scared at all?” The fatty widened his eyes.Jiang Cheng turned around and replied in a very formal tone, “Because I’m an orphan.”

5 years ago, Earth was subject to an event now known as the “World Awakening”.

At that time, the world completely changed. Mana awakened in the world, gates began opening, and a holographic screen showed up in front of the eyes of every human that outlined their “status”.

Each individual was given a talent to start with, ranging from simple abilities like enhanced eyesight to insane fantasy stuff like pyrokinesis.

And within this myriad of abilities, Damien awakened a spatial affinity with the skill “short-distance teleportation”.

At first, he was excited, thinking about intense battles and gaining great power, but the reality was quick to shoot him down.

His ability only worked in the area 10 meters around himself, and his physical stats were insanely weak, leaving him tired after using his ability a couple of times.

Disillusioned by his weakness, Damien lived a quiet life doing anything he could to meet ends meet, until one day, everything changed.

Damien was betrayed and thrown into a gate, left to fend for himself in a labyrinth of beasts.

Something snapped in him that day. He refused to stay weak and keep his head down any longer.

When he emerged from the darkness, he found himself in a new world with no idea how to return to earth.

However, he wasn’t the same kid he was when he first fell.


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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.

In an inaccessible village, there were a few houses on the hillside.

People from far away were attracted here and the mountain road was crowded with luxury cars, because, in this town, there was a young man with incredible medical skills who could cure all kinds of illnesses!