I Can Only Cultivate In A Game - Chapter 192: Who Is Competing?

A class full of idols and beautiful people are sent to another world. However there is one guy who is ugly, fat and smells… our protagonist. This is his comedic story of evolution and the slow building of his harem. The first heroine is a gorilla.

Upon waking up from the dream, Josie traveled from the 21st century to Chicago in 1943, becoming a poor boy wandering the streets.

World War II? For Josie, who is still underage, it is too far away.

As an orphan, how he can survive in this age is the most important thing.

Fortunately, he has a plane trading system. In this era, being a master of time and space can make a good life if you think about it.

However, a few months later, Josie, whose life had just improved a little, looked at Captain America, who was singing and dancing with a group of girls on the stage of the war fundraising benefit performance, and fell silent.

It’s over, Barbie Q is over.

This is Marvel!

- Description from Novelupdates

…but it seems pretty doable.

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.