MTL - The CEO Is Cold During The Day, And Wants Kisses At Night! - Chapter 471 fetal heart stop

[Shelter System successfully bound to host!][Option One: City of Light, save the survivors in the apocalypse and become a glorious and benevolent savior.][Option Two: City of Darkness, humans who enter the City of Darkness can only become your slaves. And you, will be the devil ruling over the apocalypse.]Sorry, I am no saint, I choose City of Darkness! From today onwards, I will be a villain!

Comprehensive martial arts world, Kyushu continent.

Eight great dynasties stand in great numbers, and countless small countries coexist.

Ximen Wudi, who came through, activated the god-level sign-in system.

Signed in for a period of time in a low-key manner, and created the mysterious and little-known Qinglong Club in the arena.

Wherever there are people, there are traces of the Blue Dragon Society.

Until this day, the Heavenly Dao Golden List came to the world…

- Description from novelbuddy

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.