Ultimate Choice System: I Became The Richest! - Chapter 214 Problems.

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.

[Urban Martial Arts, Passionate Martial World.] He was a super expert who, due to accepting an inheritance, underwent a physical transformation that put his life at risk. To extend his life, the king returned...

Until he became the lowest-ranked master, his lonely and luckless life never changed.Suddenly one day, a descendant injected him with a nanomachine, and the machine started ‘speaking’ to him.[I am the seventh generation Nanomachine manufactured by Sky Cooperation, and I am operating as a central nerve connected to your brain.]“What? What are you talking about?”This was beyond the boy’s knowledge, he turned pale.The Nanomachine linked to his cerebrum realized the User was not understanding a single word it said.“Who are you, and why are you doing this to me?”[“I am the seventh generation Nanomachine.]“Nano Machine?”[Yes, Nanomachine.]The boy’s face hardened.Mashin was the deity the Mashin Religion worshipped, along with the Sacred Fire.The religions’ Master communicated with Mashin.“Um, are you really Mashin?”The boy knelt down and asked with a trembling voice. At this, the Nanomachine attached to his cerebrum realized it had been misunderstood.

Talent? Unnecessary! Wealth? Doesn’t matter! Brain? Eat it!

Even if one was the greatest of gutter trashes with zero redeemable qualities, as long as they had a System, they are bound to reach the pinnacle of life.

Compass Carburettor, a dirt-poor orphan with absolutely zero f**king qualities managed to reach the peak of the business world by the age of 35, all while relying on his Money-Making System like a blinded barnacle.

But at the peak of his life, he was betrayed by his System.