MTL - Cultivation of Immortals Begins with Drilling Wood To Make Fire - Chapter 557 【Relying on yourself is the right way】

When we met for the first time in our first year of high school, he saw my contempt, but silently continued to clean;

Planets died, gods fell.After the Dharma Realm collapsed, humanity lost all its protectors.Now.“Anomaly” and “Catastrophe” began to invade the Human World.As the Dark Age approached, a soul from Blue Star transcended and arrived...

The once-bustling and noisy streets were now filled with an eerie blanket of silence.

Hoarse and frenzied whispers lingered high above the heavens, and an indescribable ancient giant lurked in the shadows of the bottomless ocean.

A mysterious plague had outbroken, and natural disasters wrought the Earth. Global pandemic and catastrophes had the panicked masses seeking illusory shelters from the devastation, day and night.

A bloody shower poured over the land as the streaks of lightning tore across the sky, illuminating the ill-intentioned gathering of ravens above. Nevermore, nevermore, quoth the ravens.

“We can see that this malformed creature has twelve pairs of ribs like humans, but also has a “transverse bone” that humans do not possess…”

In the medical school, Gu Jun continued bringing down his scalpel, illustrating the abnormal thoracic structure of the malformed cadaver on the dissection table to the surrounding students.

Ominous and treacherous times had descended! Truth and logic had crumbled, order warped into a frenzy. Humanity can only forge ahead through the power of intelligence and wisdom.

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.