Billionaire's Pleasure - Chapter 8: The Deal Part 2

Monsters appear frequently, instances are everywhere!When various classes shine brightly, Li Haotian awakens to what everyone considers the most useless Illusion God class—the Mechanic!But what others don't know is that Li Haotian's Mechanic can unlock a special talent every ten levels![Unlimited Ammo]When others are cautiously navigating instances, Li Haotian is already surrounded by countless Superpower Mechanical creations—Gatling guns, Rocket Cannons, bombers, Wolverines, Terminators, intercontinental missiles, Aircraft Carriers...and, unlimited ammo![God's Eye View]While others are carefully exploring the enemy's situation, Li Haotian is eating hotpot and watching the enemy gradually fall into the encirclement of the superpower army, grinning.[Air Drop Support]When the enemy is playing outdated tactics like blitzkrieg and encircling points to reinforce, Li Haotian remains calm, pointing to the sky—the superpower army instantly descends thousands of miles away, covering the skies of Sakura Country!Abyss Dungeon, Slaughter Dungeon, large group instances, international war instances... Li Haotian sneers and goes alone.Because, I alone, can rival a million troops!

Lugh woke up to find that he had transmigrated to a hundred million years later.

Reborn in a world where martial arts reign supreme, Li Qian becomes a menial disciple of the Divine Sword Sect, assigned as the bell ringer.When ringing the bell, the sacrificial weapon system accidentally awakens, binding his life to the bell as his life-bound sacrificial weapon. As long as he rings the bell, he can enhance the sacrificial weapon.Moreover, the sacrificial weapon has one crucial characteristic.As long as the bell remains unbroken, the host is immortal.From then on, a path of eternal martial arts unfolds before Li Qian....Many years later, when the Divine Sword Sect faces a crisis of extermination, countless disciples kneel before the bell platform.“We beseech the ancestor to take action.”

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.