The Hero Returns - Chapter 490

The super cowardly me installed Super Coward Mode, and the terrifying extraterrestrials started to look cute.“Eating the flesh of an extraterrestrial deity? You’re not human! Ew!”“Even withstanding mental manipulation? What kind of monster are you!”“Enslaving an extraterrestrial deity? You must be out of your mind.”…And then, the reactions around me became strange.

Karate wins Kyogokuma, faster than a gun within seven steps.

Adept at climbing skyscrapers to catch snipers.

Let Gin break the defense and drive the helicopter to go out.

This is an infinitely streamed fanfiction. The first world crosses Conan, and there will be animations such as Sea of ​​Dead Fire, Dragon Ball, Academy City, Under One, and Battle of Two Cities in the future. Stay tuned.

[Siyang’s seventh novel, there are thousands of premium products such as “Naruto: Long Time to See”, “I have been guarding the city of advancement for 100 years with pirates”, and six thousand premium products “Ninja World Correction Belt”, etc., quality assurance, The outline is complete, and there is no eunuch record, please rest assured to bookmark and read! 】

- Description from novelbuddy

In a world of swords and magic, where Dragon Knights and Grand Archmages wield powers capable of destroying the heavens and shaking the seas, the legends of their prowess echo throughout the ages.In this world, Sylvus, having crossed over from another realm, opens the Eastern Elixir Shop with a unique system that grants him mastery over ancient elixirs.Within this humble shop, elixirs from the eternal archives of Xianxia are available—each more powerful and mysterious than the last.A Nine-Star Saint Archmage toils away in the shop, working to repay his debt.A Nine-Star Platinum Knight pleads with the shopkeeper, desperately hoping to buy just one elixir.Even God Mages and Divine Knights engage in fierce battles just to secure the coveted Nine-Transformation Golden Elixir before others.

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.