I Woke the Sick and Disabled Prince on Our Wedding Night - Chapter 415 - : Qualification

-Daughter? Yes!-Multiple worlds? Yes!-Vast Lore? Yes!-Fastpace? Yes!...“You either Die a Villain or Live long enough to see yourself as a Hero.” ~Probably Spark---------------------------------------Spark, the lofty young master of the Dwight family, had always been a mystery. His true abilities were never known until the day he stepped onto the frontlines.In one awe-inspiring exhibition of power, Spark shocked the world and sent the coalition army of the five emperors into a chaotic retreat.Now, with the eyes of the world on him, each faction lusted to uncover the secrets behind his unparalleled strength.Still, in spite of the rampant curiosity and greed, nobody had the guts to confront him directly.And with every rumor spread of his feats, a question burned in every mind: was Spark this powerful all this time, or was he casting an illusion of strength before everybody's eyes?

I never thought I could become a hunter.I never thought I would get the chance.But that wasn’t true.「 ‘Tower of Trials’ has selected all suitable candidates from Earth. 」「 Please select your difficulty. 」「The chosen difficulty will be directly proportional to your rewards. 」I was given a chance now.A special one at that.

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.

Shu Yu has passed through the book, and has become a poor cannon fodder who was implicated by the dead female supporting role and only appeared twice and was finally exiled for thousands of miles.

After finding that he could not change the result, Shu Yu decided to eat, drink, lie down and wait.

Who knew that the exile had not yet come, but she was suddenly told that she was not the daughter of the Shu family.

Her biological parents were peasant households who lived so hard to make ends meet that their house was leaking.

And the Shu family decided to obliterate her in order to hide her blemish.

Shu Yu: Come on, I can’t kill you.

Returning to his biological parents, Shu Yu finally sighed as he looked at the plate of pickles and a bowl of porridge on the table and placed in front of him, as well as his parents’ nervous and bewildered expressions.

You can’t lie flat, or you’ll starve to death.