The Game of a Legendary Genius Dark Mage - Chapter 9

When crossing over to multiple books, Ren Shuhan found that every protagonist Shou was waiting for him to start chasing them in the crematorium.

“Don’t waste your time waiting,” He advised sincerely, “There are more 0s than 1s, so I’m not going to chase someone that is not interested.”

The protagonist Shou (sneering): Oh, there will be a day where you’ll lick the ground I walk on.

After waiting and waiting…

Ren Shuhan: “This is the wedding invitation for my childhood friend and I’s wedding.”

On the wedding night, Ren Shuhan removed the veil: “Baby, I’ve come to marry you.”

“Don’t you know that life is nothing but a play where you are the male lead and I am just a supporting character?”

“I know, but I don’t care.”

He was smiling, but Jiang Qingyue wept.

- Description from Novelupdates

In his previous life, Tang Shi was a cannon fodder. For a jerk, he even turned down a blind date his father arranged for him, but finally died in the hands of his lover and half-blooded elder brother.

Before he died, his elder brother told him that the one that always went against him, teased him and used him as a bait was the one who truly loved him, also that blind date his father had arranged for him—Yan Xu.

Feeling regretful?

What would have happened if he hadn’t made that kind of choice from the very beginning?

The ultimate power that controls everything... Time.

Rock, reincarnated in Shun Long's half-dead body when a mysterious rock merged with him, and a sudden influx of information flooded his head.

He is now cultivating in a mysterious technique that can affect time, as he adventures through the cultivation world fighting geniuses, while he reaches the pinnacle in both martial arts and alchemy.

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.