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... a big problem; unexpectedly, he was going to have big trouble because of this. A catastrophe soon occurred to his family. In the evening when Zhang Tie left Fuhai City, a shadow rushed into Fuhai City like a wisp of smoke. In an instant, it had passed by batches of patrollers and come to the outside of the wall of Household Register Official Fan’s courtyard. What the 7 cm high wall to the shadow was what the threshold of a boite to a 1.7 m tall man. With a wuthering wind, the shadow instantly di ...

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He is now Jun Moxie, a sixteen year old super level debauchee, sole heir to the declining Jun family. A family of valiant heroes, left with an old grandpa, a crippled uncle and a debauchee as the sole heir! Accepting the world’s criticism and cold stares with a smile, his new journey begins! His life will be carved by his own will! Rise to the top! Evil Monarch Jun Xie!

“This cup I toast to those I’ve killed in my past life. Forgive me, for there is no chance for you to have revenge. Gulp!

This cup I toast to those whose life I will take in my new life. Forgive me, for you are fated to die by my hands. Cheers!”

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I Am Overpowered And A Comedian In Another WorldChapter 59: Sexis, Please Delete Those Pics of the Crack
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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.