The Queen of Everything - Chapter 1063 (END) - Pea, Let’s Go Pick Up Mom (End)

It is an era of artificial superintelligences, interstellar travel, gene medicine, and virtual reality worlds. Far into Earth’s future, 15-year-old Gu Ding is a student of Cerulean Military Academy by day, and tavern waiter by night. His ambition: Become the space pirate with the highest bounty offered by the Universal Federation Government. With the help of Neptune, a neonate super-intelligence, Gu Ding finds himself thrust into a galaxy of shadowy organizations, political underdealings, and otherworldly forces that lie beyond human comprehension…

(The new book is set sail, you can read the old book “Auto Chess in the Operating Room”, the amount is large and the amount is full)

Qin Lang has obtained the life simulator system. As long as he obtains simulation points, he can simulate the career of a doctor and obtain various rewards:

[At the age of 24, through your own efforts, you have obtained the qualification to go to the first city hospital for further training from the community hospital. 】

[You entered the Burn Plastic Surgery Department of the First Hospital of the City. Due to the accumulation of your previous life, you performed well in the first round of wards. You overcame the eight-year doctoral students in the same group, and obtained the tube bed one week later. qualifications. 】

[Six months later, you performed the first operation, and the superior doctor was shocked. 】

[At the age of twenty-five, you have obtained the establishment of the first city hospital…]

[At the age of twenty-seven, your paper was published in The Lancet…]

…

[At the age of sixty, you retired from the hospital and ended your career as a doctor]

[The simulation is over, the doctor’s career evaluation, the national famous doctor is 95. 】

【You can keep one of the following abilities】

[1. Sixty-year-old doctor skills]

[2. Sixty-year-old clinical experience]

[3. The wisdom of practicing medicine at the age of sixty]

- 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.