Naruto: Reincarnated as Sasuke Uchiha with Perfect Talents. - Chapter 593: A Nearly Invincible Person

To sum up in a sentence, *slag men **washing white daily, transmigrating to different worlds to wash white, and the goal is to become a good man!

Note:
*Slag men refer to men who play with women’s hearts aka scum.
**Washing white means to come clean, fix up your life.

- Description from Novelupdates

In the world of Aetheria, there is one name that is feared by all. Yet, he is known more for his title, the Demon General. Whether it’s Gods or Demons, no beings dare to oppose his authority. He ruled Aetheria with an iron hand. Cities are destroyed on his whim. Countries are razed at his displeasure.This is the tale of his rise to power.This is the tale of his rise to Godhood.This is the tale of the rise of the Demon General.

Six years ago, the legitimate daughter of the Chu Family was schemed against by her half-sister and was forced to marry the Princely Heir, who was blind and not long for this world.Fortunately, her medical skills were excellent, and she detoxified the Princely Heir.Who would have thought after he came back to life, the emperor would actually want to bestow a concubine upon him—and this jerk didn't even refuse.Furious, she left a divorce letter and then set the Prince Residence on fire, fleeing in haste.Six years later, the same Princely Heir remained a lonely man, with all his old servants worrying their hearts out.One day, upon encountering a Little Baozi on the street who looked strikingly like the Princely Heir, they instantly burst into tears.“The Prince Residence has a successor! Princely Heir, please come back with us to the Prince Residence quickly.”Who knew, Little Baozi disdainfully said, “Not interested.”“Princely Heir, the Prince Residence is immensely wealthy...”“My mother is the wealthiest person!”“Princely Heir, the Prince Residence is extremely safe...”“My mother is the Martial Arts Alliance Hierarch!”“Princely Heir, the Prince Residence has powerful armies...”“My mother is the heir to the Nanduan Kingdom!”Suddenly, a faint voice came from behind: “Then, does your mother need an Imperial Consort? I think myself quite suitable.”

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.