After Death, I Became a Superhuman - Chapter 53 – This milk is a bit off

When Chen Ren transmigrated as a trouble-making young master in a world of cultivation overrun by sects, beasts and clans full of murderous people, he wanted nothing to do with it. He simply wanted to make money. After all, even in a world of magical murderhobos, money reigned supreme.Ignoring the numerous martial daos, he chose the dao of money which lets him reach higher cultivation realms, the better his businesses do. Using his brains and earthly knowledge, he build businesses and acquire resources to reach immortality. But before that, he had to deal with a mountain of debt, the cultivators who wanted to kill him and deciding on his first business idea.***What to expect -1. Lots of businesses and mc getting rich. 2. A highly competent main character. 3. An interesting Cultivation journey. 4. Mysteries. 5. Face slapping.6. Sect building.7. Cats.8. Average 3k words chaptersWhat not to expect -1. Harem 2. Not catsInspired by Black Market Litrpg, Laws of Cultivation and Calculating Cultivation.

When Simon dies, it turns out there's more to combat than lightning reflexes with his controller, and the path to becoming a hero is more brutal than he can imagine as he descends into The Pit. Death after Death is a dark, time loop/Isesaki story with roguelike elements, that explores some of the common tropes in a different light.

The boundless universe is full of many wonders.

I, Chen Ping, only have one sword!

I can move mountains, overturn the seas upside down, suppress demons, slap the face of gods, pluck the stars, break rivers, destroy cities, and… open the heavenly abode!

***

The Midland world was full of wonders.

In the center of the world, there was a scholar who had once used a sword to slash out a waterfall of the Milky Way. This was the person he was the most proud of.

At the edge of East Sea’s cliffs, there was a nameless Daoist who was unwilling to ascend to the peak of a mountain. He only wished for a cool breeze to brush against his face.

In the Western Pure Land, there was an old monk who liked to treat people to chicken soup and tell stories.

In the southern border of the Wilderness, there was a blind painter who controlled golden-armored puppets that were as tall as mountains to move the hundred thousand mountains, creating an embroidered picture.

A impoverished youth who grew up in the north. One day, he saw tens of thousands of Sword Kinesis Immortals above him, like a swarm of locusts crossing the border.

He wanted to see for himself the scholar that the storyteller had mentioned, the surging tides of the East Sea, the vast swamps of sand in the west, and the majestic mountains of the Southern Wasteland.

Thus, one day, the youth picked up the wooden sword and began to descend south.

- Description from novelupdates

Collection of short stories.

- Description from Novelupdates