Qiang Jin Jiu - Chapter 232: Spring flood

In one moment, he was walking down the street with his little sister—In the next, he had traveled to the world of One Piece, carrying a system that could extract, record, and fuse genes to cultivate powerful lifeforms.Thus began a leisurely and carefree life in the most chaotic world imaginable.When bored, he’d snatch a bit of heavenly tribute meant for the Celestial Dragons.When curious, he’d raise a few cute kittens and bunnies just for fun.When restless, he’d wander through the territories of the most fearsome powers in the New World.Life is beautiful—so why bother taking anything seriously?

Xie Tao had always believed in science until one day, a meteorite smashed into his yard, forcing him to bind to a heroic world saving script. The worst thing was that the script didn’t even follow common sense.

Others become superheros while he became a super-nanny. So in his left hand was a “Cub Encyclopedia” and in the right, a small milk bottle to feed the small cub clinging onto his leg.

Today, Xie Tao is trying his best to save the world.

- Description from Novelupdates

Ji Han, who was worried about his sister’s medical expenses, accidentally bound a money-making game.

The monsters in the other world, the puzzles in the film and television world, and the forbidden tombs in the legendary world.

Your game is too scary (love)!

What? 50,000 for completing the task? Kill a monster and give 30,000?

As an ordinary person, Ji Han shivered in the game, doing his best to complete the task to grab the head and get the much-needed monetary reward.

But in the eyes of others, he is the strongest alien warrior.

“Captain, the 10th team is really empty, they actually found a cowardly ordinary person.”

“Fart! All the monsters in the other world were killed by him alone. You fucking call this a cowardly ordinary person?”

- 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.