Getting a Technology System in Modern Day - Chapter 880: Nyx’s First Action

Bai Ye traveled to a very strange world where food is the sky and became a chef. He thought it would still be an ordinary life, but he slowly discovered how strange things always came in in this world.

What the hell is a gourmet cell?

What happened to Totsuki Academy?

Are the legendary kitchen utensils true or false?

Even the Sword Art Online Food Hunter version has come out, what kind of trouble do you want to make…

Although I feel that few people read it, I still set up a book friend group, welcome to join the home cook, group number: 553438462

- Description from novelbuddy

Song Zhong’s parents were the geniuses of the sect. But they were apparently killed while on a mission when he was barely 6. As he apparently did not excel in any of the 5 elements, in fact, all 5 elements are in balance in his body. Thus, our fatty is deemed to be trash and does not deserve the respect his parents had.

He is allowed to have one task, to collect garbage of the sect until he reaches the initial test-age where he has to prove that he is worthy to stay in the sect.

Our fatty has no choice but to cultivate the only heritage his parents gave him. A mysterious black pearl.

Unfortunately for him, this pearl seems to be only useful for… collecting garbage…

- 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.