The Invincible Supreme Medical God - Chapter 154 - 153 Prepare for the End Quickly

The ultimate power that controls everything... Time.

Rock, reincarnated in Shun Long's half-dead body when a mysterious rock merged with him, and a sudden influx of information flooded his head.

He is now cultivating in a mysterious technique that can affect time, as he adventures through the cultivation world fighting geniuses, while he reaches the pinnacle in both martial arts and alchemy.

Dying in a tragic accident Marcus Ferrous gets transferred to a fantasy world of monsters and magic, except when he arrives contrary to what he expected he is now level one and a ghost. Left with nothing on a strange new world, Marcus will struggle with everything he has on his journey to get stronger and uncover the secrets of his new world.

Rael, once a teenager crippled by social anxiety, is reincarnated 1,553 years into the future after reading a book about Milford, the legendary God of Machima—a man who commanded armies of Steelborn, Machnoids, and Autonoms across the universe. Gifted with the Machima Bloodline and guided by Dominica, the World Domination System, Rael quickly rises to become the strongest World Conqueror.He first saw them on the book’s cover—steel women with lifelike faces, beasts with razor limbs, and looming above them all, a god in robes with a mechanical hand raised high. Coiled over him were a gigantic centipede and serpent of metal, guardians of his legend. Now, deep in a junkyard centuries later, Rael forges his own path. His first creation: an unbreakable fortress born in the dirt, a hulking Steelborn Tortoise with a mind sharper than any AI—crafted by Rael’s divine talent. From admiring Milford and wishing to be like him, Rael now marches forward to leave his own mark on the universe.Join him as he rises in rank across his world—and beyond.

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.