Khalifa: Queen in the Apocalypse - Chapter 245: Sword Training (R-18)

Gawain is dead and was transmigrated, but there was a slight problem during the process.
After floating for more than a hundred thousand years on a different continent, he felt that he might need a body to become a complete transmigrator, but he did not expect that…

Ash opened his eyes to find that he had traveled to a strange nation of many races, and people were kneeling before him.Before he had time to adapt to the new identity of the Terminus Observer, he was put to jail – as a cult leader.In prison, controlled by a high-tech chip, he was unable to use violence. He also lost all his memories due to the time warp.How could he escape from the prison full of ogres, green-skinned beasts, sorcerers, and elves in this strange nation? And how could he survive the legendary Blood Moon Judgment?“Ding! You obtained a game system – Mage Manual! It includes an illusory world map, which can predict risks and gains, helping you find advantages and trouble, and greatly improve exploration efficiency!”“Ding! You obtained Deadly Berserker Sword Maiden! You can share all skills and upgrade together with her!”“Ding! You encountered an Illusory Vortex! Go straight through the heartland of the Illusory Realm and harvest a lot of experience to create the Silver Wing!”...Is this the legendary system? It not only gives me free skills, but also a skillful fighter?Ash discovered that even though he was in the Otherworld, he could dominate his own destiny with the system, and even...dominate the entire Otherworld!

After rebirth, Long Xiaoyuan went into raptures because he was in poor health in his previous life. However, he suddenly found that his soul was in the body of a fatuous and self-indulgent emperor.

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.