Shadows of the Deep Space - Chapter 8 - The New Humans

“Send me to the past.” That’s how the first step toward revenge began.

Chen Shen traveled to a world of immortals and became the corpse collector of the Xianzong, burying the dead disciples every day.

To bury the disciples of the seventh level of Qi training, to obtain their immortal skills and experience, and to obtain part of their spiritual roots.

To bury the disciples of Daofeng’s inner disciples in the array, get the spirit-gathering array, the killing array, and the experience of the array.

Bury alchemy masters, get Peiyuan alchemy recipes, build foundation alchemy recipes, and get alchemy master experience packs.

Bury super geniuses, complete spiritual roots, and achieve heavenly spiritual roots…

Twenty years later, Chen Shen, the body collector who has grown into a Jindan Zhenjun but is still low-key, discovered that the corpses sent this time were unusual, as if they were from the whole sect!

- Description from novelbuddy

This is the story of a Gong who was reborn to the time before he lost his shou, where he started to tease his shou crazily… This story will be written from the shou’s POV.

The F1’s God of racing, Winston, lost his one and only important rival, Hunter. No matter how many skillful opponents appeared before him one after another, he still remained as the solitary ruler.

But one day, when Winston woke up, he found himself back to the time Hunter was only 18-years-old.

Winston, “Are you willing to rule over the Kingdom of speed with me and be my only King?

- Description from Novelupdates

What happens when, in the midst of struggling to keep up with life, you suddenly discover that you were a princess in a past life? Now, you're just a waitress with a drunken mother and a pile of bills to pay. But deep down, you know one thing: you’ll find the stupid jerk responsible for ending your royal life, no matter what it takes.Alexia POV:Then there are the spoiled, narcissistic rich jerks who think their daddy's car gives them a free pass to treat women like objects. Not today, Satan. These guys are like walking perfume ads with egos bigger than their bank accounts. I swear, they should just marry themselves—they're clearly their own type.When one of those jerks lands at my table, I can smell the entitlement from a mile away. I don't even wait for the inevitable sleazy pickup line or the “accidental” brush of their hand against mine. Nope. I pawn them off on one of the other waiters faster than you can say “unpaid rent.”