Son-in-law Heaven Emperor Xiao Yi - Chapter 67 So Much Nonsense

When a man finds himself in the presence of absolute power, what will he do? Dying has already happened, but he wasn't given permission and the creature responsible finds his tragedy amusing. Forcing him to continue his life in a new world, he is given an unknown task that must be completed if he ever wishes to rest.

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“Mr. Lei, rumor has it that you have a crush on me?”

With a cold icy face, the man ignored her question and continued reading his documents. He later decided to explain himself, “I swear to God I want nothing to do with you! The b*stard who spread the rumor is a dog!”

Snap! Suddenly, a pencil snapped in his hands while their eyes meet. The surrounding seemed to have frozen.

A few moments passed…

“Grrr woof!” Lei Xiao barked…

It is an era of artificial superintelligences, interstellar travel, gene medicine, and virtual reality worlds. Far into Earth’s future, 15-year-old Gu Ding is a student of Cerulean Military Academy by day, and tavern waiter by night. His ambition: Become the space pirate with the highest bounty offered by the Universal Federation Government. With the help of Neptune, a neonate super-intelligence, Gu Ding finds himself thrust into a galaxy of shadowy organizations, political underdealings, and otherworldly forces that lie beyond human comprehension…

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.