MTL - Crazy Psychologist - Chapter 107 this question is unreasonable

He Bai won the lottery, became rich, and reached the pinnacle of life. Then, he inadvertently took a picture of the Film Emperor Di Qiuhe being killed. And after reporting this case to the police, he was reborn in a midst of confusion.

He Bai: I don’t have any horrible relatives to abuse. Why was I reborn?

Di Qiuhe: But I do.

He Bai: I also haven’t been betrayed or harmed by anyone. Why was I reborn?

Di Qiuhe: But I have.

He Bai: I just want to have some money to live freely and eat well. I already achieved that goal, so why was I reborn?

Di Qiuhe: I have money, but don’t live freely or well.

He Bai angrily flips the table: So what’s the use of my rebirth! Just to make me suffer again?!

Di Qiuhe (Holding and Touching He Bai): Be my lover, you’re only responsible for eating “lollipops,” you won’t eat any bitterness.

He Bai: Leave!

“Guokuo, Guoguo, ci… ciguo cake, fragrant…”

“Brother, after Qiu’er finishes eating this delicious, golden pancake fruit, can you tell Qiu’er another story?”

“Brother, Xia’er has signed up for the singing competition, will you teach Xia’er a song?”

“Brother, can you dance folk dances? Chun’er wants to learn…”

Zhuang Zhou dreamed of a butterfly, and the butterfly waved its wings gently, changing the wheel of life in suffering, and also changing the sky of Shengyu.

- Description from novelbuddy

I had nothing left to live for.No family. No friends. No future.Just a shattered soul wandering through a world that had already taken everything.Then I died.And that’s when everything changed.I woke in a world of light. A void between realms. A place where gods whisper and broken souls wait to be judged. There, I met Ashen Crimson—a man who had once been worshipped, then feared, and finally cursed by the very gods he had defied. A tyrant who had destroyed his own world.But now, he’s offering me something terrifying:His life. His past. His power. His chance to make things right.The catch?The world of Zerawell is fractured.Ashen’s name is soaked in blood.His fate is sealed—exile, ruin, and eternal hatred.And now, it’s my name.Because I’ve been reborn as Ashen Crimson, heir to a house that both reveres and reviles me. A noble with dormant shadow magic, a shattered reputation, and a cursed destiny I never asked for.But I’ve lived a life of pain. I’ve walked alone through hell already.And I won’t follow his footsteps into madness.With a divine system familiar in my soul, a second chance burning in my chest, and the memories of a monster as my burden—I will rewrite this fate.Let them call me villain, disgrace, or traitor.I didn’t choose this story.But I’ll finish it.Even if it kills me.

Can't a man maintain his dignity while preparing for the end of the world? Is that too much to ask?

The Tower was all I knew... all any of us knew, and just like that, it was gone. Monsters the likes of which I'd never seen ravaged the land of my ancestors. They burst through the outer walls and stormed the city. No one could have been ready for that. But now... Now I have a second chance.

After the collapse of the known world, I woke up to find myself on the First Floor of the Tower. I was young and healthy, 18 again, and sitting in the same classroom that marked the worst days of my life. Confused and excited, I accepted this gift, deciding to use my vast knowledge of the future to climb the Tower in preparation for the end of the world.

Maybe I'll help some folks along the way? Who knows. Survival comes first.

The clock is ticking, and I'm left with only a century to build a Deck powerful enough to survive the end. Things to do... What's first? I need Essence, and I need power. I'll have to climb the Tower to acquire both of these. Some of the zealots will try to stop me, need to look out for those. What if-

“Hey, kid! Hand over the pouch or-”

Stab

Sorry, where was I? Ah... there's a spot of blood on my suit. What a lousy morning.

In this world of blood and fantasy, century-old Rowan Wilder has to not only survive, but thrive as he powers his way to the top of the Tower. The Demonic Plague that has twisted the creatures on the upper Floors is the least of his worries. Cane in hand and Summons by his side, he'll have to tear his way through the monsters, as well as the humans who want to stop his ascent. Of course, he can maintain a sense of decorum while he faces these trials, right?