My military branches can Evolve Infinitely - Chapter 1029 - 547: Emissary from Gemstone Country, Smoke of War Rises Outside Tianyuan City (4K)_3

A young man who wanted nothing but love from others died while talking to a mysterious author of his favourite novel.However, that wasn't the end for him, as he reincarnates in a Xianxia world with a Wish Fulfillment system. He can wish for anything, and it will be fulfilled.Finally, getting a chance to make his dream come true, he decided to make his own Divine Harem Sect where he would have a whole sect to love him.Of course, that also includes other type of love........“Huh!? What do you mean my disciples destroyed your sect? That's impossible! Don't you see how cute and kind they are? They are harmless!”“Hmm? My disciple flattened the Hollow Mountains? Don't joke around. Can't you see her sleeping peacefully in my lap?”“My dear disciples, why are you all lowering your robes? Wait! Why are you taking my clothes off? Well, now I can't do anything about this.”

Xu Zifan climbed to the top circle from the slums, and eventually became a boss level figure, who knew that once he crossed, he became a male cannon fodder!

However, it doesn’t matter, he still wants to be the Big Boss, and whoever doesn’t have eyes will be turned into a slag in seconds!

An idol was destroyed by a reborn woman? Start a company to cherish you!

The real daughter of a rich family despises the childhood sweetheart? It doesn’t matter. I’ll have more fun with the fake daughter~

A slag father gave his property to the half-brother? Give at will… How does bankruptcy feel, President?

Should strive in every life to be the Big Boss!

- 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.