MTL - A Simulation Game of the Heavens Starting From Marvel - Chapter 135 I'll kill you if you don't accept the conditions!

# handsome # shortcomingdefense # strong

After dying on a battlefield, she was reborn as orphan Lu Xiaocha. She was in a peaceful world with delicious food she had never seen before. There were no endless missions or killings, and everything was lovely in her eyes.

When a luxury car rolled up to the orphanage, she realized that the original owner of this body was not an orphan, but a daughter from a wealthy family.

Also, she had a superb father, a mother who was a peerless beauty, five older brothers, and an uncle. But… Why did their family name sound so familiar?

Then, she recalled reading a novel before she died. It seems that her family… were all villains!

Great! She had fallen into a villains’ nest! But… this nest was so nice. Lu Xiaocha would defend them even if they were bad! Heh! Someone wanted everything the Lu family had? They’d have to ask her fist first!

A random man came over and said, “Chacha, come with me.”

“Do you think I need to?” Lu Xiaocha shot back.

Ziel Grisel (Nijisaki ken) succeed defeated the fallen god-king in divine war. But he was cursed by the god and lost all his emotions. Until finally he created the reincarnation magic of his skill to remove the curse.

900 years later it has passed and ken successfully reincarnated. Unfortunately, The curse cannot be eliminated. And ken must be forced to live his life without his emotions. Ken finally Determined to live a quiet and peaceful life in those days as a….Butler?

The ultimate power that controls everything... Time.

Rock, reincarnated in Shun Long's half-dead body when a mysterious rock merged with him, and a sudden influx of information flooded his head.

He is now cultivating in a mysterious technique that can affect time, as he adventures through the cultivation world fighting geniuses, while he reaches the pinnacle in both martial arts and alchemy.

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.