What Evidence Does 'Why Buddhism Is True' Provide For Meditation?

Zephyr Khan, the King of Alchemy, was reborn in his youth. He took the Ancient Draconic Way to refine his body and cultivate supreme sword skills! In this life, he was destined to ascend to the top of martial arts, Even the most gifted one was inferior to him!

When he and his father eventually decide to begin a new life after his mom and sister's death, Praxis Cohen, a suicidal teenager with an expressionless visage on his face, finds himself in a huge, formidable laboratory where teenagers like him are being injected a drug of which the effect is still unknown. Fortunate enough, his body can withstand the drug that leads him to be declared by Dr. Conscire as the first patient to have successfully passed the First Stage of the experiment in this generation. As he proceeds to the Second Stage, Dr. Conscire, the president of the organization, decides to release him off the laboratory to find out that the effect of the drug enables him to read minds and do psychokinesis that sets his mind into chaos. In his debacle as an experimented guinea pig of the nameless organization, realizing that he is not alone in this experiment, Praxis meets new marvelous people to discover the origin of the experiment, the reason why they turned into supernormal beings, the connection of this experiment to the unborn world war in the future, the twists and turns of their past stories, and to discern the next stages of the experiment. With the collaborative effort of their team, they strive to choose the best course of action to put an end to this fight.

Tristan Zayden Zachadry was reincarnated to the most dangerous world and was named Zaykee, but how will he survive or do his goal to come back if he no longer had his gifted talent in kung fu? Can a weakling expose the government? And many hidden secrets in that world? “Truth is the ultimate power. When the truth comes around, all the lies have to run and hide” – Ice Cube

I have always had an almost pathological sense of paranoia. Ever since I was a child, I was convinced that the people around me were out to get me. Back in elementary school, when everyone was lining up for their student ID photos, I flatly refused to have mine taken. I insisted that the district office was going to use my picture for identity theft. The situation escalated so badly that the principal had to personally sit me down and spend half an hour trying to convince me otherwise. Then, there was the fingerprint registration system in middle school. The school required every student to submit their fingerprints to access the campus buildings. I was so terrified that someone would steal my biometric data that I literally rubbed the skin off all ten fingertips to make them unreadable. Even when my fingers were bleeding, I kept shouting that they were trying to steal my identity. I would rather climb over the school fence every day than cooperate. Every relative I had called me crazy. My parents were so fed up that they seriously considered having me admitted to a psychiatric hospital. I did not care. I guarded my privacy with obsessive determination, gritting my teeth and holding my ground all the way up to the eve of the final exams. Then came the day before the exam. That afternoon, our homeroom teacher, Tracy Collins, walked into the classroom carrying a metal lockbox. A warm, motherly smile spread across her face as she set it down on the desk. "Everyone," she said, "to make sure nobody forgets their documents tomorrow, I'd like you to hand over your IDs and exam admission slips for safekeeping tonight." She patted the lockbox reassuringly. "Tomorrow morning, I'll personally return them to each of you outside the testing center. This way, there's absolutely nothing that can go wrong." The class was deeply moved by her thoughtfulness. Some students even looked close to tears as they eagerly pulled out their documents and lined up to hand them over. Everyone except me. My hand clamped down over my pocket so tightly that my knuckles turned white. Cold sweat poured down my back. A sharp alarm bell was ringing in my head. Trying not to attract attention, I fished out a spare flip phone from my bag, ducked beneath my desk, and dialed emergency services. As soon as the call connected, I lowered my voice and spoke into the receiver. "Hello. I'd like to report a crime. My name is Charles. "I believe a teacher at St. Alden High is working with an identity-fraud ring and is planning a large-scale operation tonight involving examination fraud and identity theft."

Snowie Walton, the belle of the class, claimed she could hear my thoughts. When a classmate gained weight from hormone medications, she pointed at me and shouted, "Why did you call Eva a disgusting fat pig? Do you think you'll never be ill in your life?" The others believed her right away. They surrounded me, relentlessly demanding that I apologize publicly. From that day onward, I was isolated by the entire class. Later, during a lesson, the teacher mentioned her family. Snowie suddenly turned on me again. "What do you mean that our teacher only got this job through connections and that she has no capabilities at all? Show some respect!" I desperately explained that I had never thought such things, but the teacher didn't believe me. Not only was I written up for disciplinary action, but my scholarship was also revoked. Then, confidential documents from the school labs were stolen. Once again, Snowie blamed me. "How could you sell those files to foreigners and say that they were only worth a hundred thousand?" I was arrested by the police and convicted of leaking state secrets. I was sentenced to life imprisonment. In the end, I died in prison, consumed by depression. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the very day Snowie accused me of insulting Eva. By this time, she didn't know that I had uncovered her secret behind her so-called ability to hear my thoughts.

I got pregnant after a relationship lasting eight years, only for my fiance to call off the wedding the night before. When I arrived, I found him changing it to a celebration of his son's first month. I heard his parents speak ill of me, "That Rachel Stone really embarrassed us, getting pregnant even before you got married. I refuse to have such an immoral daughter-in-law like her." Several days later, Sean Wickham let his son's mother put on the most exquisite wedding dress to get their marriage registered. "I have a son anyway," he chuckled. "Whatever happens to the thing in your belly ain't any of my business." The illusion of happiness utterly shattered, I left without hesitation, heartbroken. I didn't want this marriage or the child anymore. I’d go back to my real home in the distant north.