MTL - Liver Progress From the Beginning - Chapter 276 Extraordinary characteristics, Jedi Tiantong!

Noah Carter wasn't special. A broke programmer working from his cluttered studio apartment, he spent his days applying for jobs, getting rejected, and scraping by with low-paying freelance gigs.One ordinary Tuesday, while debugging code at 3 AM surrounded by energy drink cans and ramen cups, Noah accidentally broke reality.He didn't mean to... it just sort of... happened.A system message appeared, floating in his vision. The Idle Tycoon System had chosen him. His first shop: a small bakery in a Magical Medieval world where demons, dragons and half-humans exist.Every sale generated automatic income, day after day. Every new world unlocked new opportunities.Noah brought it all back to Earth, selling what he could, keeping what he couldn't. One shop became two. Two became a hundred. A network spanning dimensions, time periods, and realities—all generating income while he slept.Countless years later, Noah raised his head from his pillow and realized something unexpected. The broke programmer who couldn't land an interview had become the richest man in the universe!

No family, no power, no inheritance — a thrice-lacking protagonist. Just how will the seed rise up from the mud?

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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.

Important notice, The Prodigal Son of the Ming Dynasty, also known as “Ming Song”.

Hongzhi eleven years.

It’s a beautiful morning.

At this time, Zhu Houzhao was just an adult.

At this time, Wang Shouren and Tang Bohu were sharpening their swords and preparing for the imperial examination.

At this time, the Little Ice Age has come, and the long and severe cold is raging on the earth.

At this time in Nanhebo’s mansion, Fang Jifan, the idiot son of the landlord’s family and Nanhebo’s direct heir…began his shameless prodigal life.

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