MARVEL: GAME MAKER SYSTEM - Chapter 159: - Need for Speed?

You are the ruler, I am a subject, you want loyalty, I’ll give you loyalty. You are the ruler, I am the subject, you want my sacrifice, I will sacrifice for you. This lifetime, we’ll only be ruler and subject…… cannot become the one who accompanies you to experience everything.

A deposed empress, a failure of a substitute. Charging into battle, he was the emperor, and she, his general. But within the intimacy of their military tent, he was her husband, and she, his wife.

But everything was star-crossed. For the one he loved the most, he would push her into hell again and again.

- Description from Novelupdates

In a future city intertwined with science, magic, and various races, a fearsome villain lives.“How dare you try to use such a young child. Do you have no conscience?”“It’s truly regrettable. To think that this girl could be the key to eradicating a den of evil.”“You can rest easy now. We will definitely protect you.”Sorry, but I’m actually that villain…It seems like a serious misunderstanding.

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.

The celestial celestial beings who lived for more than 100,000 years were born and reborn in a small monk in a human world.
His motto: “It’s not as good as a medicinal medicine for ten years of hard work.” “Even if you practice a copper-iron bone, it’s not enough for my soldier’s attack.”

- Description from Novelupdates