World Online - Chapter 193 Weapons For The Divine

Just as the name suggests, this is a book about a nefarious villain who ends up getting a system...Yikes.Lumian, considered to be the worst of the worst. A man unfettered by human morals, indifferent to justice and disgustingly evil at the very core of his being.On his death bed he is offered salvation, not the good kind. A faceless man extends an offer to him, an offer with a strange condition attached to it.Lumian accepts and escapes the clutches of death, a second chance at life. You’re DEAD wrong if you think turning a new leaf is an option on the table.What happens when power is given to a man with a black heart? Find out as you read.WHAT TO EXPECT?–A smart and cunning main character, with equally interesting side characters–Yes, there are R-18 scenes(No Yuri, No incest, No NTR)–Well structured storyline and epic fight scenes. Somewhere between fast pace and slow burn.Thank you very much for reading and please do well to support in any way possible…Muah

On her wedding night, Jian Ran met Zhou Huai'an, the man rumored not to like women.After that, she was cautious and humble in front of Xu Zichuan every day.Until that night, when blood flowed and rain poured, she learned the truth.She collapsed in the pouring rain, hugging herself, laughing madly with tears streaming down her face.Then, she slowly bent her proud spine, trampling her dignity into the mud.In the end, when Jian Ran left, Xu Zichuan went mad.Zhou Huai'an kneeled on the ground, “Jian Ran, I was wrong. What must I do for you to return to my side?”

“You want to steal my genes then leave?” He grabbed her and tried to force her to hand over the child that was born three years ago.

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.