MTL - After Playing the Fool and Marrying the Blind Villain [Transmigration] - Chapter 75

Standing before you is the Quicklime Martial Saint, the founder of the Taiyang Fist, the Flower Folding Master of Dinghu, Half-step Master Invincible Under Heaven, the First Sword of Xuanmen, the Judicial God, and Taiyi....After the end of the Dharma, a time of grand corruption descends, the world devoid of spiritual essence, and the system of Dao fruits takes precedence.Embracing Dao fruits, ascending step by step, thereby possessing the power of gods and saints, transcending the ordinary to achieve holiness.'Just like this,' Jiang Li said while summoning a dog, 'Heavenly Dog, bite him.'

Talismans are a part of cultivation and what a better way to get into cultivating than to have the three top sects send talismans around.The “good” sect sends a talisman to make someone extremely beautiful.The “bad” sect sends a talisman to make everything around the person turn into a death sentence.The “neutral” sect sends a talisman of amplification by accident.What happens to a woman who has just gotten pregnant?Everything hits her belly.Join in as Rex who is in the fourth mortal realm gets a second chance to cultivate.

One is the gentle and handsome zombie father who has raised her for thousands of years, and the other is the cold and awkward Professor Tianshi who always lectures her. I hate it, why are you digging by Uncle Mei? Jiang Xiaosi bared his teeth, I’ll choose whose blood tastes better… The story of a bouncing little zombie in the Tuoguxiang sex toy store.

- 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.