Night of Despair - Chapter 529 - 527 entry level 1

Xu Qing woke up to find himself turned into a Zombie.Zombies do not die; their life is endless, yet they suffer from the lack of a method to evolve and ascend!Facing a chaotic era where ceremonies and music collapse, and demons and strange creatures emerge endlessly, Xu Qing chooses to remain under the radar and becomes the most inconspicuous Corpse Driver in the shadowy profession of corpse craftsman, earning various rewards by performing rites for the dead each day.Be it folk arts, innumerable professions, or the nation's destiny and heaven's will, gods, ghosts, and the extraordinary, Xu Qing hides within a shop, mastering them all.Watching clouds rise and fall, witnessing the dynasties change and old acquaintances fade; with eyes opening and closing, witnessing the vicissitudes of life, thousands upon thousands of years, my form remains unchanged, eventually becoming an eternal name among the immortals!------------------[Alternative Longevity Stream, Folklore and Anomalies, Management Daily, Steady Cultivation]

It was the turn of the 20th century, and in the Philippine Islands, the fledgling Philippine Republic waited to be crushed by the overwhelming superiority of the American colonial forces.But John McClain, a U.S. Army veteran of the Korean and Vietnam Wars, dies and finds himself in the body of the governor of a remote Philippine province in the year 1898. Initially reluctant to take up arms against his former country and skeptical of the chances of success, he eventually decides to fight for the Republic.Now living his second life as Martín Lardizábal, politico-military governor of Marinduque and armed with modern military knowledge, he will change the course of the Philippine-American War.

Gu Chaoyan is the eldest daughter of the Gu Family, yet the least favorite one. She is mostly despised and belittled by everyone around, only because she isn’t pretty.

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.