Martial God Conqueror - Chapter 152 Invitation to join

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

Sixteen years after Lu Yi traveled to the world of immortal cultivation, the long-lost golden finger finally awakened.

Goldfinger is a simple task panel. By accepting and completing tasks, you can get various rewards.

Lu Yi was surprised to find that the tasks he posted were counted as completing them himself?

So Lu Yi embarked on the road of no return where he issued a task to himself.

Issue the task to yourself [Practice the White Cloud Swordsmanship Ten Times], and the level of the White Cloud Swordsmanship will be +1 after completion.

Issue the quest [Defeat the Outer Sect Disciple] to yourself, and get the precious Perfect Qi Condensation Pill after completing it.

Issue the quest [Breakthrough to the Foundation Establishment Realm] to yourself, and get the best magic weapon after completing it.

…………

Unconsciously, Lu Yi discovered that even if he became a saint and an ancestor, it seemed that there was no difficulty in it?

- Description from novelbuddy

Chen Muxue, the chef of Internet celebrity private kitchen, has transmigrated into a book, and has become the ultimate villain of the male fairy tale novel, and shot the male protagonist away with an iron pot as soon as he came.

Seeing the dilapidated sect and a group of picked up children waiting to be fed, Chen Muxue decided to eat before talking.

It’s just that I didn’t expect that this meal would last the whole summer…

One day, a man with a celestial spirit came over: “Master, is the sect in charge of food? If it is in charge of food, I am willing to worship inside the sect.”

Chen Muxue: “No problem, go plow the field!”

The next day, the entire cultivation world was shocked! Everyone began to test Qiandingmen one after another. No one knew why the great god of Xianmen, who had always been dressed in white, was willing to farm here…

- Description from novelbuddy

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.