The Immortal Genius Spearman - Chapter 93

“With each stroke, a river and a sea are painted, and with a brush, mountains and rivers are determined.Some people admire a painting depicting a fierce ox toppling a mountain and comprehend the profound martial art technique called 'Crushing Mountain Force.' With boundless strength, one can move mountains barehanded!Others gaze upon a sword shining with a cold moonlight in the painting, thus realizing the 'Cold Moon Divine Sword Art.' With this sword, they can slay otherworldly beings and gain fame that resounds in all directions.Li Changqing, a top woodcarver, transmigrates into the world of Cangyuan. He discovers that his woodcarvings are more enlightening than his paintings. From being a destitute and worthless painter, he rises to the pinnacle of the Cangyuan world.In his previous life, he indulged in sculpture and ended up raising a wayward child. However, in this world of Cangyuan, he has a well-behaved and filial son who lacks talent but dreams of becoming an immortal through cultivation.If my son wants to become an immortal, then as his father, I will help him achieve it!However, Li Hengsheng, the son, begins to suspect that his useless daydreaming and money-begging father may have been possessed by someone else!”

Fear breaks the boundaries between dreams and reality, and it is impossible to tell which is reality and which is illusory. When the nightmare really comes, no one can be alone.

This is both a danger and an opportunity.

- 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.

Gu Shanhai witnessed this great world of numerous heavens and discarded his third life.The gods of the human realm forged an eternal utopia with blood and fire.The King of the Red Dragon led his knights, patrolling the never-setting empire.The scholar, with a smile and a sword stroke, depicted thousands of miles of rivers and mountains, while monsters opened their eyes and stretched forth claws, giving birth to all manners of demons....'Everyone here is a player; you can't call me abnormal just because I haven't been digitized, right?'