School Beauty's Invincible Martial Expert - Chapter 2 - 00: Shocking the Entire Audience

【Let me laugh’s new book, you know what I mean, the quality is guaranteed!】 The Reincarnator Chu Ge was unfortunately bitten by a Black Cat, and because of this, was pulled into the Survival Arena. Upon entering the Survival Arena, humans would randomly transform into animals or plants to compete in life-and-death struggles, with the losers completely turning into animals and living in a daze in zoos forever! Bedrooms, parks, mountain peaks, boundless grasslands, azure seas, and magnificent atmospheres—all became arenas of competition! In the Survival Arena, Chu Ge became an African Lion! Lions fought tigers, dragons contested with pythons! Chu Ge said, “In the survival of the fittest, I must survive!”

On that fateful day, a voice in the sky told everyone on Earth that the world they called home has just been part of some sort of simulation.

Qi Condensation. Foundation Establishment. Core Formation. In the current world, only these three realms are known to be achievable. Nascent Soul is but a legend and the realms above it lost to the the long river of time. The modern era is known as Cultivation Civilization, a balance of power and civility, excess and moderation. While cultivation remains a secret practice, it has long since exposed itself to the mundane world, quietly intertwined with each facet of society. While the world appears to be at peace, what lies underneath is a conflict between human, cultivator, and demon, brewing for ages and waiting to implode. Yet in the wake of humanity’s rapid industrialization, qi—and consequently cultivation—is dying.

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.