MTL - Imperial Uncle - Chapter 53 Start reading

“While playing a Tsukkur erotic game that I loved, I somehow became possessed. To make things worse, I transformed into a perverted kid—one of the villains from the NTR series.”

This story unfolds during the later stages of World War II, where a man, scarred by the horrors of war, finally grasps the profound and harsh realities of the world. In this world, those at the top laugh and celebrate, while those at the bottom sacrifice their lives in futile conflicts driven by pride and meaningless ambition.A modern soul transmigrates and fuses with the original soul of a body, creating a unique and extraordinary existence. To some, he is a villain; to others, a madman.In a world steeped in cruelty, this man, determined to secure a place among the decision-makers, struggles to break free from the ranks of those powerless to control their fate. To achieve his goal, he resolves to shatter the chains of law, then the chains of morality, and finally the chains of mediocrity.

On a random day, at a random place… I died.And by the grace of gods, got reincarnated in a world that has put a label over my head of Otaku.'Rise of the Thunder Emperor. 'Same clichè dense hero and harem of beauties involved in an Academy setting.I would have accepted my fate if I had gotten in some mob's body but no…I had to be a villain who was destined to taste the awakened power of the protagonist, firsthand.I planned to manage my life through this whole mess and if possible get that milf teacher on the way too.But why the heck this hero is behaving like he knows what I am going to do?Why are these heroines not performing their roles and turning yandere for me but not the protagonist?And the milf I tried to trap is now flirting in the middle of the whole school?Why did things turn out so hectic?___________…A/N: - Give the story at least ten chapters before you guys judge.

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.