Xianxia: Why am I here? - Chapter 263 - 263 Promotion to Law Realm

Nine heavens and nine earths, there are many souls.

The strong stand in the nine heavens, like shining stars, while the weak creep on the ground like tiny ants.

The young boy Bai Ye accidentally unlocked the mysterious heavenly soul, cultivated supreme soul skills, guarded the soul and sword, rushed into the nine heavens and swept the stars, and the legend began…

- Description from MTL

A massive underground labyrinth awaits in an alternate world of swords and magic. With a game-like system much more familiar than spells and magic circles, Beatrice has managed her magic and risen to the position of “strongest”, but she still has her worries.

“Bghohhh!! Bshrrrr…mumble mumble…”

“B-Boo Boo! Stop! Stooooooop!! I’ll…I’ll be crushed!? I-is my, ah, love being tested!?”

Who is the legendary man named Boo Boo who, just by taking a nap, can overpower the Level Cap Holy Swordswoman? A thousand meter dragons and a proud elf girl will also show up, so what exactly is going to happen with these residents of another world!?

System: Host, what is that thing in the sky?

Shi Sheng: An intergalactic spaceship.

System: …This is a cultivation world, where did an intergalactic spaceship come from?!

—

System: Host, what are you holding in your hand?

Shi Sheng: Xuanyuan Sword.

System: This is an advanced scientific world, where did an ancient divine sword come from?! Wait a moment… Host what are you doing?! Σ(°△°|||)︴

Shi Sheng: Breaking apart the main couple. ヾ(^▽^*)))

#MyHostIsTooPowerfulAndLikesToBreakShips#

Note : ‘shipping’ is the term people use when they want two people to be a couple.

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.