The City of Terror - Chapter 548 - Big Trouble

[The criteria for unlocking the system have been fulfilled.][System synchronization with host commencing.][Synchronization complete. Congratulations. You have been given a chance to become the most desirable human in this world, just as you wished.]“This isn’t what I wished for.”[What seems to be the problem?] the voice asked, a hint of curiosity in her tone.“I asked to be the most desirable human, not a woman!” he exclaimed, frustrated as he cupped his newfound breasts.Sylvester Lancaster, a dedicated and kind-hearted unactractive policeman, often dismissed and treated like a doormat, snaps after discovering his newlywed wife in bed with his best friend. Consumed by rage, he goes on a violent rampage, only to realize the horrific extent of his actions when the blood cools—he has committed murder. Panicked, he attempts to flee but is struck by a car and meets his untimely death.However, death is far from the end. Sylvester awakens in a morgue, only to find himself in a bizarre alternate universe—trapped in the body of a stunning young woman named Cara Bolton.In this new world where Sylvester has transmigrated to, vampires, werewolves, witches, and other supernatural beings coexist in a fragile balance with humans, their uneasy peace marked by underlying tensions and hidden conflicts. Among the supernaturals, vampires reign supreme as the most dominant and influential. The system reveals to Sylvester that he now wields two new skills: the power to read minds and the ability to detect lies, skills inherited from Cara, the body’s former inhabitant who was a fairy.The system assigns him quests to complete, allowing him to level up and gain all remaining skills a fairy possesses. Many of these missions involves sex, manipulating and exploiting people, as well as infiltrating the vampiric council.

Humanity, on the verge of reaching the singularity through AI advancement, fell before it could grasp it.In a cyberpunk world where Seoul—and even all of Korea—no longer exists, a story unfolds of someone living leisurely amidst the chaos.

Because of an accident, Max transmigrated to the Lous Land and became a newborn red dragon.

He could’ve just grown up and matured normally, and he would already be at the top of the food chain, but then he obtained the Discipline Makes You Stronger System.

“Congratulations to the host for completing 20 push-ups daily and persisting for one week, bonus reward Red Dragon Physique +100.”

“Congratulations to the host for completing daily swims in the lava and persisting for one week, bonus reward Dragon Breath damage x10.”

“Congratulations to the host for kidnapping one princess a day and persisting for one week, bonus reward Never-falling Golden Gun.”

“Cough, excuse me System, I’m a Dragon, I’m fine without this reward!” Max said hurriedly. Many years later, the name of Max the Red Dragon echoed through the multiverse. Only the mother dragon standing beside tilted her head and said with a puzzled face, “What, what in the world did I give birth to?”

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.