My Wife Is A Ghost Exorciser - Chapter 1 Back Again

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Hiko Hiko, a worker, traveled through Hokage to become a member of the Uchiha, but the timeline turned out to be three years before the night of the genocide.

It coincided with the peak of the village’s suspicion and defense against Uchiha.

Factions in the family fight for power, high-level surveillance, and villagers’ misunderstandings, everything is just like the original work.

If Yan doesn’t act, the final outcome is that the whole family will be sent to the coffin by the filial son Itachi!

Death starts, it is better to ask yourself than to ask others!

Yan can only start to save himself!

Factional battles? Then cut out the faction!

High-level targets? Then change a group of high-level people!

If the internal rescue is not enough, then tear the opening from the outside!

Uchiha self-help guide begins!

Recast the glory of Uchiha!

Remember, my name, Uchihahiko!

- Description from novelbuddy

As he transmigrates across the continent of Douqi, Gu He takes on the mantle of Alchemy King Gu He and gains an incredible power - the Ten Thousandfold disciple cashback system. This allows him to grant gifts to his disciples, which are then returned ten thousandfold.“You have gifted Liu Ling the Green Lotus Core Flame, triggering a tenfold return and granting you the mighty Green Lotus Holy Fire!” the system announces as each gift brings Gu He greater power.After three years of intense training, Xiao Yan returns proudly to the Yunlan Sect, eager to display his newfound strength.“Don't underestimate this once poor youth!” he warns his former lover Nalan Yanran. “Today I'll show you what a true genius can do!”But Nalan Yanran just smiles faintly. “Is that so?” she asks, as a terrifying Dou Emperor aura suddenly surges from her.Shocked, Xiao Yan stammers in disbelief, “How did you become a Dou Emperor powerhouse?”With an arrogant smile, Nalan Yanran replies, “With my master, anything is possible.”

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.