Elder Cultivator - Chapter 1165

A filthy, idiotic, hypocritical alcoholic degenerate, known to most as Ricky Freeman, died in a tragic car accident when his lower half was crushed by a drunk driver. Coughing out a bloody mourning for his balls, Ricky finally dies only to wake up in his next life. Reincarnated in the 1920s as a orphaned kid, how will he live in a universe filled to it's brim with cosmic beings-*DING*'Huh?'[Congratulations Host for receiving the Impregnation System]

In the previous life, limited by talent and an unsteady Dao Heart, Li An stopped at Core Formation.Reborn into a new life, Li An resolves to cultivate the Life-Nourishing Immortal Skill he obtained in his previous life, all while keeping a low profile on his path toward immortality.

In a world of magic and monsters, I carved out my own empire. Hellfire Studios - my brainchild, my legacy.It all started with “The Demonfather” - a blatant copy from my past life, sure, but this world had never seen anything like it. Humans, elves, dwarves - they all fell in love with it. Critics raved, audiences cheered, and suddenly, I was on top.But the world thought I was a one-hit wonder. They had no idea what was coming.I unleashed “The Lord of the Rings” upon them. The result? Critics were left speechless, fumbling for words to describe what they'd witnessedBut why stop at movies? This world was stuck in the past, so I dragged it into the future. I created computers, birthed video games, and watched as everyone from imps to elf elders became addicted to pixels and polygons.Still not satisfied, I turned to music. I crafted stars, produced hits, and soon had the entire realm dancing to my tunes.But even that wasn't enough. Comics, manga, cartoons, anime, novels - I introduced them all. I flooded this world with stories and art forms they'd never dreamed of.Before long, people weren't just consuming my creations - they begun worshipping me. They started calling me “The Lord of Entertainment.”

At nineteen, Dexter was already one of the world’s most celebrated authors. His books topped charts. Critics praised his genius. Fans devoured every word. But behind the acclaim was a lonely boy—raised without parents, love, or real friends—just stories.He published his first novel at fourteen. By seventeen, he was a literary star. But the higher he rose, the hollower it felt.Then came the writer’s block. The headaches. The blackout. And the transmigration.Dexter awoke in the body of Daylan, a disgraced young man in a crumbling, medieval world laced with steampunk tech, divine law, and political unrest. Daylan had already failed two of the three sacred Trials—rites that determine one’s magical potential. He was drowning in debt, entangled in plots to overthrow a corrupt Divine Church, and branded a lost cause.With no way back, Dexter took the final Trial—the most brutal of them all—and began a path that would earn him the whispered title: Soldier, Poet, King.But as his powers grew, one question haunted him: Did he truly die? And if so, who—or what—chose to bring him back?