One-Click Upgrade: Super Decomposition System - Chapter 112

Cale Virel was just a normal office worker.He was bored and tired of his life, waiting for it to end.And then—Bam!One night, two robbers targeted him!And instead of surrendering, he fought back!Though, in the middle of doing so—PHUCK!He got stabbed and died...He didn't regret it though.After all, he's not really afraid of death anymore.And so...He rested in peace..........Or so he thought!Cale Virel—“Huh? What the fuck?”He woke up as a young slave named Kaiser in a different world!And given another life he didn't ask for again—“Fuck this shit!”Cale, or should I say—Kaiser—“Ugh, whatever.”Decided to live it... By just doing whatever he feels like until he dies.

[Congratulations! You’ve unlocked the Dimensional Motel System.][First Mission: A runaway princess—hailed as the most beautiful in the land is being hunted by her step-mother. She was originally headed to the dwarves’ cottage, but the System has rerouted her to your motel instead.][Protect her. Win her trust. And if you manage to woe her, you’ll earn her Affection Points.][Bonus Mission: Sleep with her evil stepmother to unlock more reward]'What kind of weird mission is this? And why does this story sound way too familiar?'

You’d think seeing the future would give me a head start on surviving the apocalypse. I had it all planned—until everything I knew shattered when my husband sacrificed himself to save me and our son. Now it’s just me, my three-year-old son Leo, and my cursed gift of foresight that only seems to kick in when it’s nearly too late.I’m doing my best to keep us safe, to find food, to make some kind of plan—“Mommy?”I glance down, trying to ignore the tug on my pant leg as I focus on our supplies. “Not now, Leo. Mommy’s thinking.”“Mommy!”I sigh and finally look down. My three-year-old is standing there, clutching… I blink. “Leo, where did you get a knife?”He shrugs, grinning like it’s the most natural thing in the world.My heart stutters. “No, really. Where did you find that?”I try not to laugh. I mean, he’s three. Maybe he just—found it somewhere? But the next day, it’s a water bottle. Then, a tiny flashlight, somehow with batteries still inside.I don’t even know what else; he’s pulling things out one by one with the pleased grin of a kid who’s just figured out his favorite game.Well, we may just survive this mess after all.Now, if only the universe could have spared me from him. I don’t even know his name, but I know his type: tall, broad, and annoyingly handsome, with an air of calm control that’s out of place in this chaos. Ex-military, if I had to guess, with a voice that’s just as infuriating as his smirk. The man has a habit of showing up at the worst—or best—possible times, with a gun at the ready and secrets buried as deep as those bright green eyes.I mean, he’s probably useful, but I’m trying to keep my eyes on the prize here: survival.For Leo and me.Because, foresight or no foresight, nothing is guaranteed in this new world—except the fact that people like him are trouble.

Perhaps the paintings in a museum are subjected to more nonsense than you would hear anywhere else in the world.The language that comes out of an artist’s life is the painting itself. It contains the most ordinary lives that know failure, desire, recoiling in fear, and compromise.Learning is about understanding that language. We miss much of what the paintings speak because there is no way to ask the long-dead painters about the philosophy of their lives.In an alleyway in the residential area of Jongno, there’s a peculiar art gallery. This place enables us to transcend such limitations. By sheer coincidence, I ended up visiting that place and began living an entirely different life.