MTL - After the Divorce, I Was Spoiled By the Prince - Chapter 1404 dark tide

When Zhou Yi woke up, he realized that he had become the prison guard of the Heaven Dungeon.Although he was fortunate enough to find a Fruit of Eternal Life, he did not possess any powers to protect himself.In a world of cultivation where demons and monsters roamed freely, Zhou Yi decided to hide himself and train for thousands of years.Time passed by quickly.The child he had freed 100 years ago had become the founder of the Great Qian Empire.The teenager he had helped 1000 years ago had become the elder of a celestial sect.The pet he had kept 10000 years ago had become the Absolute Demon King of Foreign Lands.This is the story of a normal person who has eternal life, the story of how he watched countless events unfold and eventually becomes the Supreme Celestial of Eternal Life.

Jung Sunwoo was an average man. He had just taken his first job at W&U, a celebrity management company, as a manager. He could finally achieve his dream of being the manager of a world-famous actor or actress. On his way to work, he fell into what appeared to be a lucid dream about his future. As he went on with his day, he realized it may not have simply been a lucid dream.

What do you do when your brother dies because of some entitled assholes? You go undercover.My real name? Clare. But at school, I’m Clause—just another guy blending in. Disguised. Watching. Yes, a boy. No, it's not an all-boys school—I'm just deep undercover, hunting down the bastard responsible for my brother’s suicide. Nobody—and I mean nobody—messes with my precious brother and gets away with it. They better pray I never find them, because when I do? Death will be a mercy, and trust me—I don’t do mercy.And as for the egotistical Alpha and the narcissistic Vampire Prince? They can go fuck themselves. I don’t do mates, I don’t do claiming, and I sure as hell don’t do them.

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.