The Dark King - Chapter 1197: Open

How does a half-grown mountain village boy like me end up bizarrely becoming the grandmaster out of nowhere?Source: Web...

Living on the streets of Orchard's Reach, Sen never dreamed about becoming a cultivator. He barely even knew what cultivation was, let alone wanted to do it. When fate intervenes, though, he finds himself the disciple of a cultivator. Like all who find themselves on the path to defying the heavens, Sen will have to decide what kind of person he wants to be and what kind of mark he wants to leave on the world.

The Invincible Immortal Emperor reincarnates, taking over the body of a student at the Huaxia Medical College. He displays extraordinary skills both in combat and medicine.In his previous life, he was the undefeated War Emperor and the supreme master of medicine. Yet, he found himself ensnared in the mundane affairs of the world, confronted by endless temptations.Would he lose himself to these temptations or remain steadfast in his principles? Would he succumb to despair and decadence, sinking into oblivion, or would he rise with strength and resilience, reversing the course of destiny?As he sets forth on his path to reclaim his status as the Immortal Emperor, he vows to make the ghosts and gods of the myriad realms tremble in fear!

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.