Transmigrated as a Ghost - Chapter 7 - 6 The Cruelty Of People

The notion of destiny is mysteriously unfathomable! Some fight to the death but fail to grasp it, ultimately regretting their journey on the path of immortality. Yet there are those who are born with great destiny, not only blessed with innate talent, their luck is defying the heavens. Heavenly Grade Techniques, rare treasures, Elixirs, no matter where they go, they encounter them! One day, the treasure-hoarding Clan Leader sent a message, “There are too many treasures, our Family’s Treasure Vault can’t hold them all!” Upon hearing this, Lin Tianming couldn’t help but smile wryly. “It seems like treasures have eyes of their own, always finding me when I go out, but this isn’t what I intended at all!” PS: This book is also known as “I don’t want to be the son of Qi Luck!” “I really don’t want to pick up garbage anymore!”

An internet troll who wanted attention, the reader criticized his favorite web novel, saying: “The protagonist is dumb and the author is stupid.”

Author: “… Got it.”

Unfortunately for him, the author actually listened to his (troll) feedback. The formerly lighthearted tale of a cute harem master suddenly became super dark and edgy. The reader could only helplessly look on as the the protagonist was abused and betrayed, finally embarking on the road to becoming completely evil. Everything was a mess!

After that the reader transmigrated into a strange world. How come the person in front of him looks like the protagonist (evil undead version)? Just what is going on?!

Note: Du Zhe (读者 meaning Reader) and Du Ze (杜泽 the character’s name) sound almost the same

- Description from Novelupdates

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.

The celestial celestial beings who lived for more than 100,000 years were born and reborn in a small monk in a human world.
His motto: “It’s not as good as a medicinal medicine for ten years of hard work.” “Even if you practice a copper-iron bone, it’s not enough for my soldier’s attack.”

- Description from Novelupdates