Spare Me, Great Lord! - Chapter 1255: Complain

Before he was a little over 10 years old, he was the nightmare of the Gorge of Heroes and the headache of countless people that had been abandoned by the world.

After leaving the Gorge of Heroes, he became a legendary figure of the number one academy in the continent, and he alone brought numerous changes to it.

Thereafter he stepped foot onto the continent to become a legend, but the road to become a legend was far more difficult than he’d imagined….

On a continent where puppet masters reign supreme, using anything and everything as weapons: living creatures, shoes, daggers, pendants, clothes, shields, guns — which they call puppets, this is the story of Bai Xiaofei with his trusty sidekick, Huskie, on a quest to find out exactly what happened to his parents and become the greatest illusion stream puppet master the world has ever seen. This is a story of wit, plot twists, love, strategy, cultivation, humor, and the unknown.

Chi Xiaochi: fourth-rate citizen at birth, three-time award-winning film emperor, second-rate temper, first-class looks. He crawled his way out of hell on hard mode to become a winner at life.

This story unfolds during the later stages of World War II, where a man, scarred by the horrors of war, finally grasps the profound and harsh realities of the world. In this world, those at the top laugh and celebrate, while those at the bottom sacrifice their lives in futile conflicts driven by pride and meaningless ambition.A modern soul transmigrates and fuses with the original soul of a body, creating a unique and extraordinary existence. To some, he is a villain; to others, a madman.In a world steeped in cruelty, this man, determined to secure a place among the decision-makers, struggles to break free from the ranks of those powerless to control their fate. To achieve his goal, he resolves to shatter the chains of law, then the chains of morality, and finally the chains of mediocrity.

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.