PREVIEW

... son, Doflamingo. Which means... he's also my loyal subordinate."

Darren spoke to Bullet with a half-smile.

"You've got no chance."

Bullet looked at Darren, then at the silent Senor, and scoffed.

"Try saying that again after you actually get out of here alive."

Darren shrugged and turned his eyes to Senor.

"So then, Senor... Tell me, how exactly does Doflamingo plan to get me out of here?"

Staying in captivity wasn't necessarily life-threate ...

YOU MAY ALSO LIKE
MTL - Elixir SupplierChapter 1006 Beginning and ending
 746.2k
4.3/5(votes)
DramaFantasyRomanceSlice Of Life

In an inaccessible village, there were a few houses on the hillside.

People from far away were attracted here and the mountain road was crowded with luxury cars, because, in this town, there was a young man with incredible medical skills who could cure all kinds of illnesses!

- Description from Novelupdates

Conquering a fantasy world with the US Army.Chapter 19: Cleaning up the leftovers.
 102
4.5/5(votes)
FantasyActionAdultHarem

Adam Quinn, a 26-year-old US Army ranger, was on his way back from his sixth tour of combat when his plane was ripped apart in a violent storm. Waking up in a new, strange world with a system call the conqueror system.Will Adam choose the path of war or the path of diplomacy?

Imparting My Cultivation To Beasts Gets Me 10,000X In Return!Chapter 410End - Heavenly Monarch
 5.5k
4.3/5(votes)
AdventureFantasyAction

# pet beasts # impart cultivation

I Am Overpowered And A Comedian In Another WorldChapter 59: Sexis, Please Delete Those Pics of the Crack
 7
4.5/5(votes)
FantasyActionAdventureRomance

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.