MTL - Naruto: I Can Only Draw S-rank Rewards - Chapter 117

In the waves of steam and machinery, who could achieve extraordinary? In the fogs of history and darkness, who was whispering? I woke up from the realm of mysteries and opened my eyes to the world.

Firearms, cannons, battleships, airships, and difference machines. Potions, divination, curses, hanged-man, and sealed artifacts… The lights shone brightly, yet the secrets of the world were never far away. This was a legend of the “Fool”.

- Description from novelupdates

Dragon 5th is a powerful lord with incredible martial arts, and yet is wasting away from a fatal disease. The only medicine which can cure his sickness lies in the clutches of his venemous ex-wife, Madam Lovesickness, and is guarded by 7 dangerous killers, fugitives of the martial world. To retrieve the antidote, Dragon 5th hires Liu Changjie, a skilled martial artist who loves drinking and women, but has a mysterious past. All is not what it seems in this wuxia heist story.

One day, in front of my eyes appeared a silver-haired Goddess.

What kind of bullsh*t is this woman spouting?

“…What?”

No, I’m not.

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.