The Gate Of Good Fortune - Chapter 1018

Lin Luo was originally an ordinary college student. But once she crossed over, she came into the land of beasts, where the primitive forest is full of danger.

However, she met all kinds of beautiful men of different races to protect her, and got a lot of love.

Lin Luo: “Uh, different races can have children? Don’t be ridiculous. Interracial love is impossible to have results.”

A group of beautiful men: “As long as you’re willing, you can have results.”

- Description from Novelupdates

In the end of the world, the fittest survive.

Come back from rebirth, seize the opportunity, just want to survive in the hopeless end times.

Three months before Mu Nan returned to the apocalypse, he sold all his savings to accumulate supplies, hoarded everything he could hoard like a hamster, and then huddled in his own house and lived a low-key life, carefully waiting for the apocalypse to come step by step…

- Description from Novelupdates

A Mature Lady: You have a house?

Jiang Xiu: I can cultivate.

A Ms. Perfect: You have a car?

Jiang Xiu: I can cultivate.

A Loli: Big Brother Jiang Xiu, do you have a seven-figure bank balance?

Jiang Xiu: I can cultivate.

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Jiang Xiu once transmigrated to the Immortal Martial Continent, living out a long life there and establishing himself with renowned fame. He finds himself waking up to strange circumstances and discovers that he’s returned back home. What happened exactly? And what’ll he do from now on? Follow Jiang Xiu as he deals with the crazy scenarios fate has in store for him.

- 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.