MTL - Movie World’s Archvillain - v20 Chapter 97 Out of the shell

The objective was the World Domination.

108 Demons and their Dungeons descended upon the land as they battled each other to become the Strongest Dungeon Master.

Isaac Constantine, a Demon Baron who managed to survive until the end of the game, only to meet betrayal that lead to his death.

Just as he thought it was over, he received a second chance

[Artefact Sand of Time has been activated.]

[Players can restart the game.]

[Synchronizing…]

[Displaying status]

[Isaac Constantine - Rank 99]

The battle between Dungeon Masters has restarted!

With a thirst for revenge, Isaac swore to create the best Dungeon and the Strongest army to win the game. Demons, Monsters, Superhumans even God himself will know his name.

Follow Isaac's story as he Rebirth to become the strongest Dungeon master

When crossing over to multiple books, Ren Shuhan found that every protagonist Shou was waiting for him to start chasing them in the crematorium.

“Don’t waste your time waiting,” He advised sincerely, “There are more 0s than 1s, so I’m not going to chase someone that is not interested.”

The protagonist Shou (sneering): Oh, there will be a day where you’ll lick the ground I walk on.

After waiting and waiting…

Ren Shuhan: “This is the wedding invitation for my childhood friend and I’s wedding.”

On the wedding night, Ren Shuhan removed the veil: “Baby, I’ve come to marry you.”

“Don’t you know that life is nothing but a play where you are the male lead and I am just a supporting character?”

“I know, but I don’t care.”

He was smiling, but Jiang Qingyue wept.

- 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.

A poor boy whose parents died accidentally found a mysterious space and set foot on the avenue of cultivating immortals. From then on, he planted spiritual herbs, refined elixir, opened shops, trained troops, and established a fairyland…

This article is about cultivating immortals and farming, not for mortals, not for stallions.