From Abyssal Invasion to Bursting Stars with a Single Sword - Chapter 18 - Traitor Task

Born into a wealthy family, Gu Shenwei was spoiled and carefree. However, at the age of 14, his entire family were brutally murdered, and he was caught by some bandits who sold him into slavery. As a slave boy, he entered Golden Roc Fort by chance and found the man who had slaughtered his family. He endured insults and worked hard to improve his kung fu while working as a slave boy. He learned from and plotted against his enemy under the enemy’s nose. He became increasingly ambitious as he became more and more powerful. He would only be satisfied if he completely destroyed his enemy—by fair means or foul. Gradually his bitter experience turned him into a totally different person.

“I shall fuck every woman's hole and mouth until I become the undefeated vampire lord of lust!”

With a demoness of lust fell on his boner, Zoravec, a 19 years old seemingly human struggled to keep his carnal desires in control.

The only one way to find his mate is dual cultivate with every single existing woman! But things go wrong when his vampire blood activated the bloodlust, and his first sex partner dies of blood loss.

Zoravec has no bloodline due to his mixed blood. But his power outbursts are no match for other vampire nobles. Especially with the huge harem of beauties who possess every kind of lethal power, who are at his beck and call.

What chaos will the hatred towards his own kind bring?

She was once the all-commanding queen of business, but when she woke up once more, she found herself disguised as the second young master of the Prime Minister’s residence!

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.