MTL - Rebirth of a Supermodel - Chapter 182

After a brutal attack leaves him for dead, Alex awakens in a new world unlike any he has ever known. Reborn into a prestigious family, he is thrust into a realm where power defines worth, and ancient secrets lie hidden beneath layers of intrigue.Determined to seize this second chance, Alex must navigate dangerous family rivalries, uncover the truth about the enigmatic woman who saved him, and master the powers now at his disposal. As he delves deeper into mysteries, he finds himself at the center of a growing conflict—one that could shape the fate of this world and his place within it.Will Alex rise to the challenge and rewrite his destiny, or will the forces against him ensure his downfall once again?

In the 900th millennium of humanity's journey towards the Star Sea, the unstoppable Expeditionary Army dominates the universe, and the fiery Age of Great Expansion nears its conclusion.Ancient cultivators seize mythology in pursuit of becoming sacred Buddhas; the new generation of prodigies shatter shackles, yearning to surpass limits!Yet, in a secluded corner of the vast cosmos, Qin Shi chooses to grind through countless achievements, unlocking one monument after another.Until reaching the pinnacle of evolution, the ultimate summit!

The nemesis that Ji Ran had been unable to stand for many years has finally gone bankrupt.

All his scoundrel friends asked him, what now?

Ji Ran laughed coldly, you still have to f*cking ask him?

Of course, it’s to use this opportunity to torment, humiliate, and trample upon him.

Therefore, Ji Ran waved an arm and threw a card towards his nemesis in mad glee, saying that he’d ‘sponsor’ him.

However, the next day, he sat up in bed with a dumbfounded expression. Feeling a sore ache in his body, he recalled the bitterness of last night, as well as their ‘fight’ and the tears he’d wept…

f*ck your mom.

Motherf*cker.

Qin Man, you dog, I’ll kill you!

- Description from Novelupdates

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.