God Of Soul System - Chapter 64 - Apply for graduation!

“If I don’t die… I swear I will act on all my evil thoughts..”

Not exactly everyone’s typical thought when they’re about to die. What will a cowardly young man do when reincarnated with the evil powers to redefine his destiny? Can the natural kindness of human nature triumph over evil? Will he become the cold-blooded demon king of legend, or will he forge his own path and rain down another kind of terror?

- Description from novelupdates

First Senior Brother is a hopeless romantic, Second Senior Brother carries a deep-seated blood feud. Third Senior Sister is caught in a love-hate cycle with the Demon Lord across three lifetimes, and Fourth Senior Sister is a femme fatale.The Sect Leader left the sect for love, while the Martial Uncle fell into demonic cultivation for the woman he loved…Neither immortal nor heroic, just handsome men and beautiful women playing house.Only the Little Junior Brother is reliable, upholding the sect while dedicating himself to profound cultivation.The heavens stretch vast and mighty, my Dao shall prosper!With righteousness in his heart, grand ambitions, and the fate of the world as his responsibility—“Disciple Li Xuanxiao, requesting the Sect Leader to die!!”“……”The Empress: “Open your eyes and look at me. I don’t believe your eyes are truly empty.”Li Xuanxiao’s eyes widened like bronze bells.The Empress: “For you, I would rather bury the entire world with me.”Li Xuanxiao backhanded her with a slap: “What did the common people do to you?!”“…….”Blood Demon Patriarch: “Should evil truly deserve death?”Li Xuanxiao: “If you don’t die, then do I have to?! Hurry up and die!!”“……”By chance, he encounters a gravely injured demoness—stunningly beautiful.Li Xuanxiao: “Let’s see if my poison can’t kill you!!”“Take my sword and feel a thousand holes piercing through you!!”“…..”Li Xuanxiao transmigrated one day—no system, no chosen one destiny, only the relentless pursuit of immortality.But the sect is a bit unreliable.First Senior Brother constantly attempts su*cide because of unrequited love.Third Senior Sister brings the Demon Lord right into the sect.His master, stuck in puberty, ran away for love.Little Junior Sister is determined to seduce him.The Empress sees him as her dream lover.

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?

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.