Destroying My Own World - Chapter 44 - : Best friend.

In modern society, a 24-year-old ordinary young man Reid managed to avoid a dump truck and declined the invitation to the reincarnation space, only to be sent to the Marvel Universe by a computer malfunction. There, he obtained the DC role-playing system. As a result, the Marvel Universe got a taste of the darkness from the DC Universe.In order to protect the Wayne Corporation, Alfred pulled the trigger on the executives supporting the IPO.To eliminate the mutant threat, he allowed Jean Grey to be infected with the Joker infection.Captain Marvel, who served as the cosmic police, could never have imagined that the Martian Manhunter, who followed her in fighting against the Kree empire, had been secretly controlling her mind all along.“I am indeed playing the role of a hero,” Reid did not deny this. “However, it's a hero that belongs to me.”When the threat was finally neutralized and the Justice League ascended the podium, people realized they had already been shrouded in injustice.

Space, System, Treasure, Spirit Tools … other protagonists all have golden fingers, Shi Qing: this young grandpa [Xiao Ye] is a golden finger.

It’s just that …he is now a golden finger and even more importantly bound to a host?

And so this host, has a backstory resulting a bloody darkened heart and soul, truly a psychopath!

A psychopath I can endure, but I also have to work together with the psychopath through different worlds, can I endure?

Ancient times, modern times, apocalypse, futuristic….

Traveling throughout the worlds, Shi Qing thinks the host isn’t as bad as he imagined? Strange.

- Description from Novelupdates

Ukei Kaito fought a desperate struggle in order to fulfill his role as a summoned hero. He defeated the Demon Lord and saved the very world, only to meet an end filled but with betrayal. The companions that he’d trusted throughout his journey betrayed him and killed him by sticking a blade through his chest.

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.