MTL - My Post-Apocalyptic Shelter Levels Up Infinitely! - Chapter 827 Tengu Shokutsutsuki, blood epidemic change!

The beautiful Blue Star tragically fell victim to an invasion by enemies from the Otherworld. The globe was left riddled with wounds, but it also presented an opportunity for the Awakening of the Blue Star people—a chance to choose something other than hot weapons. Individuals could use their own strength to slay enemies, amass wealth, and reach the pinnacle of their lives.Ye Nai was lucky enough to awaken in advance, releasing energy spores that could decompose organic matter. He had planned to make a stunning debut during the mass Awakening at school, but results showed he hadn't awakened?!What the hell?I haven't awakened?Then what's this Fungal Mycelium I have that can decompose abnormal creatures?Ye Nai gave a devilish smile.Haha, everything that happens is to my advantage. Whether it's the enemy or abnormal creatures, obediently fall into my hands and become nourishment for my mycelium!

Song Zhong’s parents were the geniuses of the sect. But they were apparently killed while on a mission when he was barely 6. As he apparently did not excel in any of the 5 elements, in fact, all 5 elements are in balance in his body. Thus, our fatty is deemed to be trash and does not deserve the respect his parents had.

In the distant future, the world was in ice

Humans live in cryo facilities underground, awaiting for the distant Spring,

Robots manage the facilities

They built a ‘village’ there and lived there.

They dreamed that, one day, they would live together with the ‘Humans’ (Master).

This, is the story of the Ice Country.

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.