MTL - Eternal Gate - Chapter 23 Old corpse

A hundred years ago, he was a genius of the Emperor's Domain who made even the God of War wary. He was unparalleled in both alchemy and martial arts. However, his friend betrayed him, leading to his untimely demise.A hundred years later, he rose from being a dandy young master, starting everything anew. From then on, the world witnessed the emergence of an extraordinary genius.“Boss is even more ferocious than a wild beast!”“Boss values friendship above all else. He is forever my best friend!”“Kevin, no matter how long it takes, I'll wait for you. I won't marry anyone else!”“Don't ever provoke that man of calamity. That guy is a beast!”“I am Kevin Anderson, who dares to defy me?!”

Harry got a strange Life Achievement System which assigns missions that reward him for acting like a scumbag and earning Scum Points.Scum Points Could can be exchanged for powerful magical items, rare abilities, and tools that give Harry an edge in both life and business.At first, he resents it. Then he gets curious. And finally… he gets hooked.But being a scumbag is a high-risk profession. One wrong move, and he could lose everything, even his life. To survive this dangerous game, Harry must walk the line between manipulation and strategy, charm and ruthlessness.He’ll cheat, scheme, and hustle his way to the top.

The King of Hell sentences you to death by midnight, but I can ensure that you live past morning.

The young man, Qin Lang, received the inheritance of a poison school by chance. He uses poison to kill people, uses poison to save people and he uses poison to chase beauties. With body of ancient extinct poison and a body of a martial artist, he walks around the city, and wanders around in the underworld.

- Description from Novelupdates

[Longevity + Discipleship + No Female Lead + Lighthearted Humor with No Tragic Moments]When his master picks food, he spins the table there;When his master chants spells, he chats without a care;When his master takes rest, he sings a lively song;When his master lies late, he bangs the pot along;His master lives on long, but his life is rather short;His master lays him down on the hillside, as a sort;His master lifts a cup, but he won’t take a drink;His master shares a tale, but he won’t stop to think;His master holds a feast, but he leaves the table wide;His master calls his soul, but he’s nowhere to abide.Spring returns to the hills, with blooms so bright and fair,Yet master and disciple are parted, one in heaven, one elsewhere.