MTL - Food Circle Plug-in Emperor - Chapter 788 certainly not a bad thing

When she stands, she’s like a white peony. When she sits, she’s like a tree peony. When she walks, she’s like a lily flower. And when you look her in the eyes, she’s like the Great King of Terror.

Despite having the qualities to be a peerless bishoujo, because of the look of her eyes and that atmosphere of hers, she’s feared by others; such a girl is forcefully sent to another world.

Being told that she would be granted a wish as a special favour, the girl made a wish────

“Make my eyes and atmosphere normal please.”

This is a story recounting the lifestyle in a parallel world of a girl who would be perfect (probably) if just her one weakpoint was overcome.

A fantasy comedy with magic, dungeons, and a hero and demon king(candidate) who she gets tangled up with.

He is a ger who came from feudal times. His greatest wish is to have a piece of land that belongs to him, marry a hard-working man and have a lovely baby. Live a simple and warm life.

He is a major general of the Federation, cold, ruthless, frightening, aloof. It’s the label given by everyone who knows him.

However, the failure of a mission made the strong and cold him encounters the delicate and gentle him. People of two extreme personalities unexpectedly get along harmoniously.

The world says,

The reason why he is cold is that he gave all his tenderness to his little husband.

Only when his little husband is around him can he become approachable.

- Description from Novelupdates

Dr Dalton Wyatt, a world renowned Scientist and Inventor is transmigrated to the body of a high school student Dalton Wyatt who committed suicide due to unfortunate circumstances and complicated life.

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.