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... gis City and Gareth defending the entrance of the Shiny Platinum, things seemed bleak. My thoughts were to let enough pirates pass us, run into the city, and then rally everyone to launch an attack on one of the pirate ships that had landed. We could commandeer the ship and retreat to the capital.

I just needed my aether to replenish before making the attempt. I was under one percent of my aether and recovered about ten percent an hour, or roughly five hundred aether points over the hour ...

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Knowing this, some people might be happy, but not for him.

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Doesn't the young master like him is a stepping stone for the protagonist, and had a tragic ending?

Just when he was really desperate, suddenly the system came.

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[Congratulations to the host for obtaining a martial emperor level cultivation base]

Cool, just slumped, but now invincible?

______________________________

First of all, this novel doesn't have any elements of a brainless Harem, our MC will not be like other MC who every time he goes somewhere, he will bring another woman.

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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.