The Devouring Dragon - Chapter 45: An Insane Plan

Kanzaki Ryoma transmigrated into the world of Tokyo Ghoul and began fusing with Uchiha Madara. Determined to bring an end to this twisted world, he chose to implement the “Eye of the Moon Plan” and ultimately activated the Infinite Tsukuyomi!

[I have led a cautious life, but the system keeps trying to do me in] “Ding Dong!” “Welcome to the Smart Cultivation System!”

“You have chosen to cultivate the Bone Forging Art. The system will start cultivating for you. The system has detected that the host is missing the Bone Tempering Pill. Please wait a moment…” “Ding Dong!”

“The system successfully stole ten Bone Tempering Pills for you, and the cultivation will continue…” “Important reminder, while the system is cultivating, you will lose lose control of the body…”

After getting the Smart Cultivation System, Pei Ling began to grow stronger rapidly. He was prepared to become a deity until one day… “Ding Dong!”

“You have chosen to cultivate an unknown technique. The system has identified this as a dual cultivation method. The system will start to cultivate for you. The system has detected that the host is missing a Dao Partner. The system is looking for a Dao Partner for you…” So, Pei Ling watched as he ran to the fairy’s training room next door, drugged her, and carried her into his room…

The celestial celestial beings who lived for more than 100,000 years were born and reborn in a small monk in a human world.
His motto: “It’s not as good as a medicinal medicine for ten years of hard work.” “Even if you practice a copper-iron bone, it’s not enough for my soldier’s attack.”

- 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.