MTL - Hello, Mr. Major General - Chapter 13 Touching the vine (1)

Bankruptcy, divorce, wife’s betrayal!

35-year-old Yang Hao suffered a triple blow!

However, in a desperate situation, he inherited the property in the game “Monopoly”.

From then on, he became famous!

Ex-wife begging for reconciliation?

Sorry, you won’t accompany me when the sun sets, but who are you when I come back? You feel tired when we share the joys and sorrows, and you don’t deserve the glory and wealth! !

- Description from novelbuddy

Welcome to Hell’s Game.[Entering instance: Bloody Restaurant][The position you applied for: Delivery Person][Your customers include: a fat otaku emitting a corpse stench, a maid who bursts at the slightest disagreement...][Your colleagues include: A boss who's too pretty to be human, A cow or a horse in the literal sense, a man-eating tree that swears in French...]Facing these incredible characters, Liu Zheng, who wanted to be a decent person, had no choice but to give up on humanity.

One day, a gallery appeared before my eyes.…And then I was able to see who wrote in the gallery.All the heroines are ‘virg*ns’.

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.