MTL - Pirates: The Royal Props Master, Shocking the World - Chapter 196

Li Yanchu transmigrated into a strange world of martial arts, Daoist spells, ghosts, and monsters, only to land in the body of a young Daoist at the rundown Qingyun Temple. Just across the street? A rowdy inn run by a stunningly seductive innkeeper. Life could be worse.Gifted with the mysterious Decree of Bestowal, Li Yanchu can transform ordinary herbs into century-old divine medicine, giving him an unparalleled advantage in cultivation. With this cheat-like ability, he advances rapidly in cultivation, despite being told he had no talent for it.But cultivation isn’t his only path forward.After slaying a ghost and earning merit points, he realizes there’s more to this world than martial arts. Hidden behind the scenes is a karma-based system, one that rewards righteous deeds.As his saber technique grows sharper by the day, Li Yanchu finds himself entangled in eerie mysteries, deadly encounters, and strange happenings in Wei City…Now, with the authorities pounding on his doors, Li Yanchu’s peaceful days of tea and training might just be over.Ghosts. Bandits. Cultivation. A cheat system tied to karma. When the mortal world and the supernatural collide, only one Daoist stands between chaos and order.

An unsealed condom package shattered her steadfast adherence to and fantasies about love, causing the beliefs she had clung to in her heart to collapse in an instant. Liman discovered that not only had her husband been unfaithful, he had also transferred assets and even tried to frame her to get her to leave with nothing.Facing her husband's betrayal, Liman began to seek vengeance!

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 part-time job contract. He became the cold CEO’s imitation boyfriend. He merely wanted to earn a few small bucks and live a comfortable life, but a pity, he was in constant turmoil since then. Well, life had something else for him despite his wishes.“That… beauty, will there be an increase in wages for conversion from ‘boyfriend’ to ‘husband’?”

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