There’s Absolutely No Problem With The Magic Cards I Made! - Chapter 67: The Three Tyrants of the Royal Capital

What does “being perfect” mean to you? To Hashidate Yuuto, it means everything. All his life long he strived for perfectness until a single incident occured in middle school that ruined his plans of being perfect: He pooped in front of the whole class and parents. Believing, that his reputation was destroyed and that he would never be able to reach perfectness anymore, he wished that the incident never occured. This is when a mysterious Goddess named Maki offers him a button that allows him to go back in time.

Based on the popular Vocaloid song “” by kemu.

Lin Yi failed the college entrance exams and chose a diploma mill university.

And as deserving of a diploma mill university, the first line of the admission letter read:

- Description from Novelupdates

Anning was controlled by the main god system to be countless side characters and cannon fodder women in numerous lives. One day, she finally broke free from the control of the main god, and thereafter, Anning embarked on a journey to help numerous cannon fodder women fight back and slap the faces of their opposers.New article 'Getting Rich Starting From a Million-Fold Devaluation of the World' is released, please recommend and collect.

The year was 2026, and the world wasn't what it used to be. Ever since the Abyss Gates cracked open three years ago, spilling monsters and dungeons across the planet, life had turned into a chaotic mess. Cities were half-ruined, half-rebuilt, and people clung to whatever normalcy they could find. Hunters—those brave or crazy enough to fight the monsters—became the new heroes. Everyone else? Well, they just tried to survive.Fin wasn't a Hunter. He wasn't a hero either.He was just… Fin. A lanky 19-year-old with messy brown hair, a chipped front tooth from a dumb skateboard accident, and a power that everyone called useless. Absorption. Sounds cool, right? Like he could suck up energy or steal someone's strength. Nope. All it did was let him “feel” things he touched a little more than normal. He could tell you the exact texture of a brick wall or how warm a coffee mug was—big whoop. No fireballs, no super strength, no flashy moves. Just a glorified touchy-feely trick.“Fin, you gonna eat that sandwich or just stare at it like it's gonna confess its life story?” Meg's voice snapped him out of his thoughts.He blinked and looked across the rickety table at his best friend. Meg was short, loud, and had a wild mop of dyed purple hair that she swore made her look “intimidating.” It didn't.