I Can Accumulate Proficiency, Starting from Alchemy - Chapter 10 - : Cultivating Qi - The Third Level

Jun Xie was the number one assassin in modern earth. His skills and knowledge in the field of assassination were unparalleled, his accomplishments unprecedented, his reputation terrified the entire underworld. However, during a mission to retrieve a mystical treasure, a mishap occurred…

He is now Jun Moxie, a sixteen year old super level debauchee, sole heir to the declining Jun family. A family of valiant heroes, left with an old grandpa, a crippled uncle and a debauchee as the sole heir! Accepting the world’s criticism and cold stares with a smile, his new journey begins! His life will be carved by his own will! Rise to the top! Evil Monarch Jun Xie!

“This cup I toast to those I’ve killed in my past life. Forgive me, for there is no chance for you to have revenge. Gulp!

This cup I toast to those whose life I will take in my new life. Forgive me, for you are fated to die by my hands. Cheers!”

- Description from novelupdates

Chinese fringe international Licado became the alien Ronaldo’s half-brother in 2002.

This is a nearly omnipotent Ronaldo who has not been plagued by injuries.

As a huge fan of Ronaldo, Licado is his biggest supporter?

And when he himself picked up the Golden Globe for the first time said, “He [Ronaldo] didn’t lose to me, he wouldn’t lose to anyone,” . He just lost to time … ”

Without a system, without a golden finger, rebirth is his greatest luck.

- Description from Novelupdates

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.

In this world, there is the beautiful mutual and telepathy love.