Eternal Reverence - Chapter 673: Thunder Cloud Cult

If Ke Xun could do it again, he would have never left his house to go out and flirt with guys, even if it would mean getting beaten to death.

Weren’t they supposed to have just been taking shelter from the rain in a museum and looking at some erot*c paintings while they were at it? Why…did they enter the world inside a painting?!

Mu Yiran: Every single one of us is acting out a role in the painting.

Ke Xun’s eyes lit up: How do we get into an erot*c painting?

Mu Yiran gave him a long, drawn-out look: Shut your eyes and lie down.

……………………………………………………………

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“What? That chicken is actually a phoenix?”

“You're telling me that this dog is a qilin?”

“This little lizard is the legendary dragon?”

“What kind of weird pet shop is this? When did legendary beasts become so easy to find!”

An ordinary looking shop, but what hides inside are legendary cultivation pets. Step inside, but only if you dare.

Su Xuan traveled across the parallel world and became a policeman!

At the ex-girlfriend’s wedding scene, Su Xuan took out a silver bracelet in front of her, and gave the groom a three-day trip to the police station!

Ex-girlfriend: Su Xuan, are you crazy? If you want to rob a marriage, shouldn’t you rob me? What’s the matter with arresting my husband?

Bind the god-level criminal system, and catch criminals to get rewards!

Targeted search, petty criminals and big criminals don’t want to escape!

Take a bus and catch the bag thief.

Wandering in a shopping mall, I came across a scene of abduction and trafficking.

Make up a salary card, accidentally become a hostage…

When other police officers were still patrolling the streets, Su Xuan had already become a hot topic in current affairs, and he was trying to arrest the arrester.

The criminals are broken: did the cop put a pointing device on them?

The police officers cried: Brother, give it a chance, leave some seams!

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- 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.