Xianxia: Why am I here? - Chapter 272 - 272 Energy Manifestation success

When a person dies, they either die light as a feather (aka unimportant) or heavy as Mt. Tai (aka very important).

He rose from abjection and achieved eternity in glory.
He embraced the prettiest beauties and killed the strongest opponents.
He was able to shift the clouds into rain and cover the sky with one hand.
He could overrun the entire world and go anywhere as he pleased.
He pacified wars and held the world in awe.
He was matchless in the world.
However, his hair turned white overnight for his beloved woman and he was on the verge of death.
He was surrounded by enemies who were trying to take his life.
He struggled his way to become mighty and fought for everything he cherished.
For this age, he was the only king of the Dark World.
His name was a byword for might.
As a man living in the world, his only ideal was to pursue brilliance.

In this world, mystery and the supernatural never depart.Those who, with bodies honed through thousands of trials and indomitable wills, break the chains of life and pursue human limits in modern cities, are known as martial artists.Under neon lights, swords clash. At the tops of towering buildings, friendships are made through fists.Among mountains and peaks, heroes discuss their ways.Here, martial artists who have broken the “seven physical limits” carve their godlike names under the heavens, stunning both the ancient and modern worlds and making the stars shine brighter!Here, the once-in-a-decade “World Martial Arts Tournament” broadcast is the highest rated program globally, where martial artists fight for their nation and themselves!Here, martial artists, with their mortal flesh, combat dark spirits and mythical beasts in life and death battles to protect their homeland's civilization.Here, every true martial artist unswervingly believes:“The martial way is boundless; my body is unfettered!”

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.