The Bloodline System (Web Novel) - Chapter 1592 Celestial Decree

Kyle was just an ordinary gamer until a truck-kun decided he was isekai material.Waking up in the world of Path of Transcendence—a novel he once read—he realizes he’s not the hero, the villain, or even a side character.He’s an extra, someone who was never mentioned in the story. But this world is no fairy tale: it’s cursed, doomed to fall to demons, with every major character destined to die.However, Kyle isn’t as ordinary as he seems. Blessed by the Roaming Storm, a mysterious and powerful force, he wields the rare ability to command lightning, wind, ice, and water.But is he truly just an extra, or is there more to his role in this doomed world? Armed with his knowledge of the novel and his newfound powers, Kyle must find a way to survive in a story that wasn’t written for him.Can he become the missing piece that changes the fate of this world, or will he be crushed under the weight of a plot that doesn’t even know he exists?

Bai Ye traveled to a very strange world where food is the sky and became a chef. He thought it would still be an ordinary life, but he slowly discovered how strange things always came in in this world.

What the hell is a gourmet cell?

What happened to Totsuki Academy?

Are the legendary kitchen utensils true or false?

Even the Sword Art Online Food Hunter version has come out, what kind of trouble do you want to make…

Although I feel that few people read it, I still set up a book friend group, welcome to join the home cook, group number: 553438462

- Description from novelbuddy

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.