Weapons of Mass Destruction - Chapter 7

Saintess wants to turn me into a sword spirit; the master wants me to be a rebel disciple; the blindfolded sword fairy senior sister wants to make me her slave; the fox from Qingqiu harbors ill intentions; the little dragon girl always drools over me; the princess wants to keep me in the deep palace...All I want is to cultivate immortality, so why do they always have designs on me!? Many years later, someone asks Lu Jin'an what kind of Dao heart supported him to get this far? Lu Jin'an glances at his charming and alluring wives and sighs faintly：“I just wanted freedom.”

Cultivating immortality was too hard, with no Spiritual Root, Wang Ba accepted his lot in life.

He chose to join a Sect, becoming a servant in charge of raising chickens.

But the moment he touched a chicken, he realized that his path to immortality might be a little different!

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.

This is the story of an ignorant scum who pretends to be a scholar and goes to the world of Meiman to slaughter various scholars and bosses.

This is also a story about pretending to be a fool instead of pretending to be an idiot.

When the heaven will entrust a hero with a great responsibility, he must first take his nickname ‘Problem’, let his online name be ‘Jiancao’, and change his character to ‘conscience’.

Except for the protagonist’s surname Mei, everything else is fine.

- Description from novelbuddy