MTL - Back To the Small Fishing Village In 1982 - Chapter 341 rare

After saving one world from a demon god and earning the trust and admiration of a perverted goddess who wants to be his plaything, Sol's terrible luck causes him to get summoned again to another world with her almost as soon as he returns to his own.However, this time around he refuses to take on the role of a hero.Instead, he decides to challenge a pantheon of gods as a side quest while living as a simple and misunderstood man under the protection of his goddess who took his place as hero. Unfortunately, even without trying Sol can't avoid attracting trouble and is constantly getting dragged into epic battles against the gods without even trying because of his cocky personality and bad habits.But that's fine too, if the gods want to fight then he'll gladly take them on and plunder them into ruin!

The Aliens descended with hostility.In the face of the Alien invasion, humans were as weak as ants.So this was the apocalypse, the true apocalypse.But where there was invasion, there was resistance.For some people, this wasn't the end times, it was war.So this was war.The real war!

Lucille was a top student when she suddenly passed away due to a car accident she was transmigrated to the novel that she was reading before her tragic ends, and what's worse she was transmigrated in the body of the Villainess Acantha Solaris who will also die without receiving any love from everyone.

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.