The Scrap Tamer - Chapter 23: Mission Rewards

On her wedding night, Jian Ran met Zhou Huai'an, the man rumored not to like women.After that, she was cautious and humble in front of Xu Zichuan every day.Until that night, when blood flowed and rain poured, she learned the truth.She collapsed in the pouring rain, hugging herself, laughing madly with tears streaming down her face.Then, she slowly bent her proud spine, trampling her dignity into the mud.In the end, when Jian Ran left, Xu Zichuan went mad.Zhou Huai'an kneeled on the ground, “Jian Ran, I was wrong. What must I do for you to return to my side?”

Ye Qiu traveled to the Great Wilderness World and obtained the ten thousand-fold return system.

By teaching or gifting the same thing to the apprentice, you can get a high multiplier crit return.

“Ding, you give your disciple a Marrow Cleansing Pill, trigger a thousand-fold crit, and get a Divine Marrow Pill.”

“Ding, you passed ten years of kung fu to your disciples, triggered a hundred times of critical strikes, and obtained thousand years of kung fu.”

“Ding, you gave your disciple the Zixia Sword, a top-grade treasure, which will trigger ten thousand times the crit and get the Immortal Sword Yunxiao.”

All the disciples: “Master is too generous. He never hides his secrets from his disciples, and he gives everything away.”

- Description from novelbuddy

“Young man… if you could go back in time, what period would you like to be in?”

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.