Intergalactic conquest with an AI - Chapter 6: Noble

One day I got a younger sister.Only I know her true identity.

Upon awakening in a parallel world, Lin Yi discovered that not only were Xiao Zhuang and Xiao Ying present, but also veterans like Old Pao, Tou Lao Gao, Qiangzi…He had unlocked an Entry Upgrade System.【Shooting Novice (White) → Hundred Paces Piercing Yang (Gold)】【Superior Memory (Blue) → Photographic Recall (Gold)】【Master of Struggles (Blue) → Supreme Titan of Competition (Gold)】【Martial Arts Grandmaster (Purple) → Mortal Warlord (Red)】【……】As time passed, Lin Yi steadily advanced towards the peak, growing ever stronger.Yet, as he ascended, unexpected figures began to emerge before him—He Chenguang, Xu Sanduo, Lei Zhan, Yan Poyue, An Ran, Long Xiaoyun, Shen Ge…Only then did Lin Yi realise that this was not merely the world of Special One, but a vast amalgamation of multiple special forces universes.

Humanity has endured for millions of years, but recorded history only spans a mere four thousand years. During that unrecorded deep-sea age, what exactly were we doing?Countless indescribable beings ruled the universe, and our powerful ancestors preserved the fire of human civilization under their threat.Then they disappeared, and we rose.Now, they are coming back, mysterious psychic powers are awakening, the flame of human civilization is slowly extinguishing, and no kings are in sight...Chen Ke opens his eyes to see a world full of ruins and himself on the brink of death.The moment his heart was pierced by the Blasphemous Dagger, he became a dying man without a heart.Able to survive only 2 hours...

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.