MTL - I Copy Under One Punch - Chapter 96 Hungry wolf vs water dragon (seeking subscription)

Struggling until thirty-eight years old and still can't afford a house, you have to pay a dowry of 300,000 to get married, living frugally for most of your life, your liver is shattered from overworking, but where's the money? Who really took all the money?

Jiang Qin, who is full of grievances, was reborn at the age of eighteen. The only thought in his mind when he opened his eyes was to start a business and make money.

The first step, to take back the love letters he had sent out, flip it over, and write three lines in the stunned eyes of the school beauty:

You must never work for others, better to latch onto a wealthy woman if you can.

You can make more money if you lose it, but if you lose your conscience, you can make even more!

As a corporate slave, never be a servant!

As for love? Even dogs don't talk about that stuff!

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A small skeleton in the undead world inadvertently passed through to the end of the world. His limited IQ found that his boss seemed to be weak. As a good value, he decided to protect the boss first. When he was annoyed, he would do it directly. Turn the boss to his own position. Gao Shuo inadvertently encountered a strange encounter. At first, he used this skeleton as a combat partner to raise it. Until one day, this skeleton became a man, and Gao Shuo made a new decision. Don’t hesitate to rush to eat. Meng pet sweet text! ! ! (Little Skeleton) The Lord is accepted by the Lord! ! ! The important thing is that the protagonist can be transformed between the monks and the people three times.

- Description from Novelupdates

[Longevity + Discipleship + No Female Lead + Lighthearted Humor with No Tragic Moments]When his master picks food, he spins the table there;When his master chants spells, he chats without a care;When his master takes rest, he sings a lively song;When his master lies late, he bangs the pot along;His master lives on long, but his life is rather short;His master lays him down on the hillside, as a sort;His master lifts a cup, but he won’t take a drink;His master shares a tale, but he won’t stop to think;His master holds a feast, but he leaves the table wide;His master calls his soul, but he’s nowhere to abide.Spring returns to the hills, with blooms so bright and fair,Yet master and disciple are parted, one in heaven, one elsewhere.