Harem God: Leveling Up Yanderes in the Apocalypse - Chapter 10 Thirsty Psychopaths

One is the gentle and handsome zombie father who has raised her for thousands of years, and the other is the cold and awkward Professor Tianshi who always lectures her. I hate it, why are you digging by Uncle Mei? Jiang Xiaosi bared his teeth, I’ll choose whose blood tastes better… The story of a bouncing little zombie in the Tuoguxiang sex toy store.

- Description from novelbuddy

Humanity, on the verge of reaching the singularity through AI advancement, fell before it could grasp it.In a cyberpunk world where Seoul—and even all of Korea—no longer exists, a story unfolds of someone living leisurely amidst the chaos.

A Mature Lady: You have a house?

Jiang Xiu: I can cultivate.

A Ms. Perfect: You have a car?

Jiang Xiu: I can cultivate.

A Loli: Big Brother Jiang Xiu, do you have a seven-figure bank balance?

Jiang Xiu: I can cultivate.

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Jiang Xiu once transmigrated to the Immortal Martial Continent, living out a long life there and establishing himself with renowned fame. He finds himself waking up to strange circumstances and discovers that he’s returned back home. What happened exactly? And what’ll he do from now on? Follow Jiang Xiu as he deals with the crazy scenarios fate has in store for him.

- 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.