MTL - Survivorship Bias - Chapter 3 keep a low profile

He crossed over to a new world where humans have magical power. They are called warriors. They use their power to kill the monsters that appear out of nowhere. Dragons, Dungeons, and Magic users are pretty common in this world. If you want to live in peace, you need to have that power. You can also become a powerful clearing dungeon.

In this dangerous world, he has a system that can help him grow stronger. But he didn't want to be a high-profile warrior who attracts much powerhouse attention or become a lab rat. He wants to be Low-profile and grow strong using his system.

To pass as an imperial concubine, one must be professional.

Actually, the profession of an imperial concubine is pretty good. The emperor will accompany you in eating and drinking, and even pay you for it. What’s not good about that?

Welcome to Attraction Land.

You all have been brought to this world famous amusement park for a certain task that you have been promised an extraordinary reward for helping us with.

We will be asking you to carry out a simple monitoring. We will be showing you documents outlining some experimental attractions as well as image videos for them.

Oh, and we would like for you to provide at least three points of improvement for each attraction. Answer everything and do not leave any spaces on your form blank.

It does not matter how small a thing it is.

Now, it is time to begin monitoring.

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.