MTL - Poison Genius Consort 2: Emperor’s Swallow - Chapter 1029 Min Yue special article: Hugh Book

“I can definitely become an immortal,” she said.He looked her up and down, sneered, “You can indeed become an immortal, a Lazy Immortal.”She breathed a sigh of relief, fully self-assured, “A Lazy Immortal is still an immortal.”He was speechless. Great, very powerful, who says a lazy person can't become an immortal~

“Victor Kane, your life has been the easiest. Born into the wealthiest family, never having to work a day in your life, always surrounded by luxury, and never experiencing a single moment of misery. Even dying within seconds without an ounce of pain. I must say, it's interesting.”When even the gods had taken Victor to be the luckiest, his luck seemed to run out finally._______[Caution! A curse has been inflicted on the user.][Curse Grade: Celestial][Curse Description: The user is restricted to only tame insect species. Taming normal species will become impossible with this curse.]_______Reincarnated to the world of Beast taming where only the tamed beasts could keep your societal status. Theo was born with the curse to only tame ordinary insects.Follow his journey where he takes the help of the very simple and ordinary creatures to pave his path in the future.“Wait, what do you mean the Outer Devils arrive in metal ships and armored suits from beyond this world?!”Being attacked by space ships and Mechas, all Theo had was his tamed to fight against the danger.

Using the ability to freely travel between Earth and the fantasy world so he can… become a porter of two worlds…?

Bai Yang’s objective was to establish a production line that would yield hundreds of millions of pills, pellets, and artifacts…

- 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.