MTL - Raised By the Whole Earth As a Paper Man [Interstellar] - Chapter 88 .88·

Bai Ye traveled to a very strange world where food is the sky and became a chef. He thought it would still be an ordinary life, but he slowly discovered how strange things always came in in this world.

What the hell is a gourmet cell?

What happened to Totsuki Academy?

Are the legendary kitchen utensils true or false?

Even the Sword Art Online Food Hunter version has come out, what kind of trouble do you want to make…

Although I feel that few people read it, I still set up a book friend group, welcome to join the home cook, group number: 553438462

- Description from novelbuddy

Lin Qiao remembers nothing from the past five years since the post-apocalyptic era began. She wakes up only to find herself having become a newborn, superpowered zombie, in a body that used to belong to an evil and notorious woman!

Having kidnapped a girl and raped her father, the previous host met her demise at the very hands of the conspiracies she courted all her life, leaving Lin Qiao no choice but to deal with the consequences while trying to figure out her own past and the fate of her loved ones.

As for the little girl’s father, can’t he just have a decent fight? He’s a human being, but why is he biting a zombie? She’s the zombie! She’s the one who’s supposed to bite!

Thirty years ago,A meteor fell, revealing God's ruins!A God stepped out from it and started to feed on humans.From that day forth, humanity became the prey of the God,All except for me!Because I feed on God.

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.