MTL - I Became A Hit After My Divorce! - Chapter 784 0782: S District 1

Space, System, Treasure, Spirit Tools … other protagonists all have golden fingers, Shi Qing: this young grandpa [Xiao Ye] is a golden finger.

It’s just that …he is now a golden finger and even more importantly bound to a host?

And so this host, has a backstory resulting a bloody darkened heart and soul, truly a psychopath!

A psychopath I can endure, but I also have to work together with the psychopath through different worlds, can I endure?

Ancient times, modern times, apocalypse, futuristic….

Traveling throughout the worlds, Shi Qing thinks the host isn’t as bad as he imagined? Strange.

- Description from Novelupdates

The King of Hell sentences you to death by midnight, but I can ensure that you live past morning.

The young man, Qin Lang, received the inheritance of a poison school by chance. He uses poison to kill people, uses poison to save people and he uses poison to chase beauties. With body of ancient extinct poison and a body of a martial artist, he walks around the city, and wanders around in the underworld.

- Description from Novelupdates

Xu Zifan climbed to the top circle from the slums, and eventually became a boss level figure, who knew that once he crossed, he became a male cannon fodder!

However, it doesn’t matter, he still wants to be the Big Boss, and whoever doesn’t have eyes will be turned into a slag in seconds!

An idol was destroyed by a reborn woman? Start a company to cherish you!

The real daughter of a rich family despises the childhood sweetheart? It doesn’t matter. I’ll have more fun with the fake daughter~

A slag father gave his property to the half-brother? Give at will… How does bankruptcy feel, President?

Should strive in every life to be the Big Boss!

- 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.