Fields of Gold (Web Novel) - Chapter 717: Premature Labor

Cthulhu Gonfalon is a story about a man who woke up in another world. After a drink over his loss in a game, Sui Xiong ended up in the middle of the sea. Surprisingly, he now found out he no longer existed in a human shape but in a spirit state without any flesh. In order to survive and find a way to return to Earth, he then searched for a body to accommodate his spirit. After several confrontations with some creatures under the sea, he decided to settle for a jellyfish flesh. This Jellyfish was extraordinarily huge. With its tentacles, it caught others’ spirits to nurture its own power. In this world, Sui Xiong wasn’t only matchlessly powerful but he also had an ability to cast magic. With this gifted ability and combined with his knowledge from the civilized world on Earth, he could help a deceased person resurrect, change a person’s look, and do tons of other crazy things that he didn’t know.

In the distant Eldrathis Galaxy, a vast and uncharted frontier teeming with ancient ruins and deadly secrets, humanity is a small fish in an ocean of monsters. But that doesn’t stop treasure hunters like Clara Dravenmoor, a brilliant and reckless archaeologist, and the Safira's crew, from chasing lost relics buried in the void.Her latest mission? Recovering a priceless artifact from the ruins of Zhaaros, a hostile planet plagued by nomadic warlords and nightmarish creatures. But what she finds isn’t just a relic.It’s him.A pale, otherworldly man, locked away for centuries in a high-tech sarcophagus, covered in mystical markings and dripping with an aura of power that defies reality.He looks confused. No memories. No idea why he was trapped there.But he doesn't look angry.He looks eager.Excited to follow Clara in the Safira through the vast and magnificent galaxy.

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.