Fantasy: I'm Really Not A Supreme Master! - Chapter 1029 - 936 The Ten Tyrants Arrive in Person

Jung Sunwoo was an average man. He had just taken his first job at W&U, a celebrity management company, as a manager. He could finally achieve his dream of being the manager of a world-famous actor or actress. On his way to work, he fell into what appeared to be a lucid dream about his future. As he went on with his day, he realized it may not have simply been a lucid dream.

Lorelai is an unwanted princess; a puppet in the hands of the royal family.Born weak and raised loyal only to her kingdom, she has no real power and is constantly abused by both her stepmother and her son.Her value lies in one thing only––marriage. Thus, she is to marry Duke Kalder, an old but powerful and influential man whose previous wives have all gone missing under mysterious circumstances.That is until she meets him.Tall, dark, strong, mysterious, irresistible, seductive.The King of Lycans. The King of Beasts. The Gypsy King.One who was once a slave now controls the biggest and strongest, most feared kingdom of the continent. And for some reason, he has his eyes set only on Lorelai.Important note: this is a historical fantasy novel and in its context, the word “Gypsy” is only used as a name of a nomad tribe and is not used as a slur.

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.

My disciple, whom I raised and cherished with my whole heart…That same disciple has returned and is trying to kill me.“Before you fall, before you cease to be my idol, my hero, my sun, I will kill you with my own hands. For your honor!”Just wait for a while…I’ll bring you back to your senses.