The Demonic Cultivator In Zombie World - Chapter 272: A Technique More Suited for Cave Dwellers’ Constitutions

“Don't worry, dear. I won't let him touch my body even if I am forced to marry him. My love and my body will always be yours only. I am doing this to protect us. Please wait for me till I find a way out of this.”“Of course...I will wait for you...I trust you...” This poignant moment captures the profound love between a couple bound by their hearts. Yet, what unfolds when the man discovers his beloved has been ensnared in a trap she can never escape? What if his cherished woman is being manipulated by another man, unbeknownst to him? What if, while he sleeps, she is being ravaged by multiple men? The central question remains: Will her love for him endure, or will she be consumed by the abyss of corruption and lust? Dive into NTR Sagas, a collection of the most heart-wrenching and dark NTR stories, and explore the depths of human emotions in the face of betrayal and desire.

“What? That chicken is actually a phoenix?”

“You're telling me that this dog is a qilin?”

“This little lizard is the legendary dragon?”

“What kind of weird pet shop is this? When did legendary beasts become so easy to find!”

An ordinary looking shop, but what hides inside are legendary cultivation pets. Step inside, but only if you dare.

Traveling through the world of One Piece, Ron, who became Kuina’s fiancé, awakened the god-level theft system.

In order to become stronger and change the fate of Kuina’s death, and to survive in this dangerous era of great pirates, Ron started to steal Sauron’s top kendo talent.

And that’s just the beginning.

In order to become stronger, Ron embarked on a journey to steal the talents of the world’s strongest.

“Ding! Congratulations to the host for stealing Karp’s physical talent!”

“Ding! Congratulations to the host for stealing Nika’s talent!”

“Ding! Congratulations to the host for stealing Shanks’ domineering talent!”

“Ding! Congratulations to the host…”

- Description from novelbuddy

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.