Natural Disaster: I Started By Hoarding Tens Of Billions Of Supplies - Chapter 549: This World Needs A Villain

In his previous life, Tang Shi was a cannon fodder. For a jerk, he even turned down a blind date his father arranged for him, but finally died in the hands of his lover and half-blooded elder brother.

Before he died, his elder brother told him that the one that always went against him, teased him and used him as a bait was the one who truly loved him, also that blind date his father had arranged for him—Yan Xu.

Feeling regretful?

What would have happened if he hadn’t made that kind of choice from the very beginning?

Li Che had transmigrated and, after living nineteen ordinary years, he opted to accept his fate, marrying and having children, striving to support his family.But the moment his daughter was born....Through his daughter, he rose in status, and his life was no longer ordinary....With his daughter’s safe birth, you gained a Dao Fruit, “Immortal Artisan”.When his daughter turned one, safe and sound, you gained the Dao Fruit “Dragon Elephant Vajra”.At his daughter's age of two, free from illness and disaster, he gained a Dao Fruit, “Pure Heart”.By the time his daughter was three, lively and clever, he gained a Dao Fruit, “Chess Saint”.His daughter was four, five, six years old.......Li Che discovered that with each passing year of his daughter’s age, he could condense a Dao Fruit to enhance himself.From then on, Li Che harbored a simple and unpretentious wish.A Dao Fruit a year, quietly safeguarding longevity.As a father, he only wished...Starting from the warmth of his wife and child by the hearth, to peacefully protect his daughter's immortality.Silently condensing countless Dao Fruits.Henceforth cultivating his spirit, invincible between heaven and earth.

In the era of Beast Taming, Ye Xuan with his superior Beast Editor, claims that he can turn even a snake into a Divine Dragon that soars across the nine heavens.

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.