Xianxia: Why am I here? - Chapter 277 - Continued retreat

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.

[Urban Martial Arts, Passionate Martial World.] He was a super expert who, due to accepting an inheritance, underwent a physical transformation that put his life at risk. To extend his life, the king returned...

I was not a perfect person, not an easy teammate to get along with, and I could not even be considered a good person at all.However, no one in this world could deny that I was the greatest basketball player, not even God!

“The host has come to the days of your old pretending.”

Chen Mo was stunned for a moment, and put down the polished Shiwang drive in his hand.

“It’s time.”

After finishing speaking, Chen Mo came to an empty square, took out the divine light stick and shouted loudly: “Dija!”

…

Yukino Yukino: “My turn, draw a card!”

Kasumi Hill Shiyu: “theworld!”

Eri Sawamura: “Henshin!”

Kaguya Shinomiya: “This is an equivalent exchange!”

Kato Megumi: “Walking in the dark, serving the light, everything is empty, everything is allowed!”

…

Why is the flower of the high mountain of the academy addicted to playing cards? Why did famous fiction writers twist in strange poses? Why are famous painters in the industry inseparable from toys? Why do rich daughters believe in alchemy? Why do ordinary passers-by wear cloaks?

And why did Yangyang Huaxia frequently appear in the Xiuxian sect?

Looking at this gradually becoming strange world, Chen Mo said that all this has nothing to do with him.

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