MTL - God’s Game I Am the Great Will of the Planet - Chapter 797 : Domination of Southern Xinjiang (23) Split

In the waves of steam and machinery, who could achieve extraordinary? In the fogs of history and darkness, who was whispering? I woke up from the realm of mysteries and opened my eyes to the world.

Firearms, cannons, battleships, airships, and difference machines. Potions, divination, curses, hanged-man, and sealed artifacts… The lights shone brightly, yet the secrets of the world were never far away. This was a legend of the “Fool”.

- Description from novelupdates

(Completed) She and he were born on the same year, month, day, and time, and on their first day of life, their unscrupulous parents arranged their future marriage.From then on... she began to cling to him.As a child, Luo Mengmeng would say in her baby voice to Gu Zhihan, “Husband, I want to marry you,” but he would grimace and respond, “Who would marry you!”When they grew up, Gu Zhihan hooked her chin, pinned her against the corner, and smirked, “Mengmeng, I heard getting married is cheap nowadays, I'll treat you.”From birth to kindergarten, elementary, middle school, high school, and university, they had always been together.[Growth literature, from childhood to adulthood, exclusively adored]

Being able to learn any skill immediately, and just by raising its proficiency, stand at the summit.

He is the World Chef Association Honorary Chairman, having the title of the World Chef God.

He is the greatest composer, pianist, and conductor after Beethoven and Mozart.

He also has the title of Underground Racing King, Fist King, Gambling King, Giant of the Stock Exchange Market, Arm of the Industries and King of the Skies.

He who has a miraculous learning ability and can stand at the apex of all things if he so wishes for it, the Omni Genius.

- Description from Novelupdates

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.