Immortality Cultivation: I Farm in the System Space - Chapter 955 - 425: Entering the Immortal Dao Realm, the True Form of System Space_3

Kieran Silver is a young man who suffered from the deceit of his superiors. His outstanding talents and exceptional prospects to climb to the top of Zenith Online dismayed his superiors.

They invoked their influence to suppress his uprising, ultimately causing his demise. However, rather than perish, Kieran Silver receives a second chance.

A chance to dethrone one of the top 10 guilds, Golden Brigade. An opportunity to create an immortal legacy that would forever live on in players' minds. The ability to reach the zenith in both worlds!

However, as he is reborn, Kieran notices a few things that are different from what he remembered. Could it be that he has gone back in time, or is there an even deeper explanation and a larger power at play?

These questions will be answered, whether forcibly or inadvertently, as Kieran explores a seemingly driving force.

The advent of the Legendary Berserker begins!

Our straight (?) bottom woke up ten years into the future and found himself on the bed of his childhood friend… At the start, the bottom was shocked to his very bones, but he soon quickly accepted this premise and found the whole situation to be rather amusing. Precisely then, the bottom once again went back to his timeline — back to when he and the top were just platonic childhood friends.

Landmines include but are not limited to: Sweet & naive bottom, a president story, logic is dead, slow-progressing romance, the protagonist’s name has too many character strokes, the names are hard to pronounce, too many gay characters…

- 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.