New law of Beast Taming - Chapter 454 - 455: The tried soul helps no one [pt2]

Gu Heng traveled through twenty years, and the garbage system ruined his life. There was no hope for cultivation, and he could only be a small mortal. Although he is a mortal, he must do good things. He helped a poor girl casually, and she became the “Snow White Sword Fairy” who was famous in the three realms in the future. He picked up a seriously injured little wild cat and raised it for a long time, but suddenly found that his pet had become the “Ten Thousand Demons Venerable”. He taught a young alchemist hand in hand, and unknowingly refined the “Ten Thousand Medicines Saint Hand”. He recognized a thin female apprentice, and eventually accidentally refined the “Ancient Emperor”. Gu Heng: None of this has anything to do with me, I am only mortal. Everyone: Stop arguing, they all say that you are the only emperor saint teacher in the world! !

What should you do when the person you like is no longer loyal? Find another one!

This time, in order to avoid trouble, Xiong Ye chose the weakest man in the tribe as his new companion.

In any case, he can afford him!

With his strength, he’ll definitely be able to let his own man eat meat every day instead of grass.

* *

Zhou Ji, the ‘weakest man’ who had just transmigrated over from the apocalypse and likes to indulge in eating ‘grass’: “…”

He’s not the same person anymore! He is clearly capable of killing the entire tribe by himself!

Planets died, gods fell.After the Dharma Realm collapsed, humanity lost all its protectors.Now.“Anomaly” and “Catastrophe” began to invade the Human World.As the Dark Age approached, a soul from Blue Star transcended and arrived...

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.