MTL - Star Reborn: Into the Wild with Cubs Live Streaming - Chapter 340 hunting party 12

Past life, her spirit root was dug out from her body. She had wholeheartedly dedicated herself to the just path, but she was sentenced as an evil demonic cultivator.

This story is about a man named Putra Indra Santoso who reincarnated as Huo Yuhao. Witness his journey in Douluo Dalu's universe where he discovered and fulfilled his ultimate goals.My Grammar is not the best, but hope you guys like it.(An: I don't own anything besides my OC)

In the heart of the volcano, the remnants left behind by the sages yearned for their successors.Risking her life, his mother obtained the Immortal Palace Seal, handing it to Ning Zhuo before her passing.“The Buddha Heart Demon Seal!”To transcend into either Buddha or the Demon.With this seal grasped firmly, he could inscribe a heart seal and command the creation of puppets.While ordinary individuals struggled under the weight of just controlling a few, the burden was exceptionally light for, Ning Zhuo, who effortlessly commanded tens of thousands with a single gesture.“Mother, I will fulfill your wishes and obtain the Immortal Palace!” He vowed.Indeed.Immortal Puppets; capable of spiritual secrets; their work skillful and rational.A new realm unfolds, expanding the heavens,Where earthly splendor rivals celestial beauty.Ancient chimes resonate with heavenly laws,As moonlight caresses the ethereal dance.The true self embodies myriad forms,Who in this world dares oppose?

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.