Seeking Immortality In The World Of Cultivation - Chapter 978 - 691 Earth Fire Calcination

The first phase of the tiran impact lasted for a whole day. Asteroids falling into earth, releasing and spreading strange green gases into the air. This has mutated or should I say, Zombified humans who were infected, Mutated monsters, and alerted alien races about the existence of earth.Those who survived for 24 hours recieved a chance to survive what was to come as that wasn't the end.Dexter was always a person who didn't care about the world. However, becoming a vampire in the apocalypse was something that he never anticipated. But it was a must if he wanted to leave his hiding spot which was surrounded by monster zombies.While restraining himself from giving into his urges to drink blood, he struggles to keep his sanity intact.Time and time again he refuses to become a lawless bloodsucker.Well, he would rise, facing different adversaries and foes, developing from the once weak and feeble human, into a vampire god....Make sure to check out this fl book 'Disguised as a boy to attend Belmont High School'.

What should I do if I cross to another world and become an NPC?

This idea has been deeply rooted and sprouted in William’s mind!

Therefore, he decided:

I want to be the strongest NPC in history.

Wear the thickest armour and give the most vicious beatings!

Who says an NPC will be killed by players?

Who says an NPC upgrades more slowly than players?

Who says an NPC must explode equipment, I can explode in more ways… Bah humph.

Anyway, it’s impossible for me to die. Just take a look at all you trash players. Your father will stand here and let you chop for an hour without a frown!

- Description from Novelupdates

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.