I Can Level Up By Staying Idle - Chapter 223 Who Do You Think You Are Compared To Black Earth? (2)

Renji Kurozawa was just another nobody—until he died and was reincarnated in a world of swords and magic. Summoned alongside other “Chosen Heroes,” he hoped for a second chance at life.But his gift was different. “Death Claim”—the power to steal abilities from those he kills.Betrayed by his allies and left for dead, Renji embraces his dark power. With every enemy he slays, he grows stronger, turning from a forgotten outcast into the most feared force in the kingdom.Now, hunted as a villain and pursued by gods, Renji must carve his own path—one kill at a time.If fate wants a monster, he’ll give them one.

Newly crowned Film Emperor Feng Jing; good looks, good stature, good acting, good character. Except he has one unshakeable rule—any night show he stars in cannot go past 12 o’clock. The media, with ulterior motives, chases after this little crazy secret of his. Yet remaining unconcerned about how the outside world falls into turbulent times, Film Emperor Feng still stands tall and unmoved.

Jiang Ran recently felt that her dog has become somewhat strange. Ordinarily when she kisses, hugs, and raises her dog up high, her dog would always be especially happy and lovable. Now whenever she kisses, hugs, and raises her dog up high, however, her dog was horny…

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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.

Originally, the question Tang Xian was thinking about was whether he should be a hero for a second among this group of destructive bosses, or continue to pretend to be a boss.

Later he found out that if you pretend to be fake, it becomes real.

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