MTL - Godly Alchemist - Chapter 210 Probe the news

“Even death can't stop me from reaching the top.”Alex clawed his way to the top through sheer hard work and ruthlessness, only to be betrayed by someone within his own group.Although he managed to kill the traitor, he lost his life in the process.But just when Alex thought it was the end, fate had other plans for him.Reincarnated into the world of a novel his girlfriend used to read, he was given a second chance at life.His goal remains the same, but this time, he awakened a mysterious system and surrounded by a harem of alluring beauties.Follow Alex journey through this vast new world as he uncovers the truth behind his reincarnation and the otherworldly goddess who made it all possible.

In the heart of the volcano, the remnants left behind by the sages yearned for their successors.Risking her life, his mother obtained the Immortal Palace Seal, handing it to Ning Zhuo before her passing.“The Buddha Heart Demon Seal!”To transcend into either Buddha or the Demon.With this seal grasped firmly, he could inscribe a heart seal and command the creation of puppets.While ordinary individuals struggled under the weight of just controlling a few, the burden was exceptionally light for, Ning Zhuo, who effortlessly commanded tens of thousands with a single gesture.“Mother, I will fulfill your wishes and obtain the Immortal Palace!” He vowed.Indeed.Immortal Puppets; capable of spiritual secrets; their work skillful and rational.A new realm unfolds, expanding the heavens,Where earthly splendor rivals celestial beauty.Ancient chimes resonate with heavenly laws,As moonlight caresses the ethereal dance.The true self embodies myriad forms,Who in this world dares oppose?

The Card Creator is a very ordinary profession. Simply put, the incumbent seals various kinds of abilities, illusions, images and so on in blank cards for convenience of use.

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.