MTL - The Landlord And His Wife - Chapter 137 :workshop

Upon waking up, Lu Qi turned into a tentacle monster.
As a tentacle monster, Lu Qi was not satisfied with using the tentacles to stun the elves, horsewoman, and magical girls. He wanted to learn the evil gods and make some big news in the multiverse.

“The abyss race never adapts to the environment, anyway, the environment will adapt to us sooner or later, and the same is true of Azeroth.”
“Humans, don’t play the tech tree anymore, you should add your points to” Spirit Vision “and” Mad Men’s Knowledge ”

“The inclusion of Godzilla, Quitola, Mozilla, and Ultraman in the” Luxury Lunch of the King’s Plan “is a matter of very little moral quality. Everyone has a responsibility to care for rare species.”
“Now take the initiative to blast your own worldview, we will give you a Saya sauce for free”

“Don’t worry about losing the SAN value, you can add a crazy attribute to be negative.”
“I decided to learn from the predecessors first and set myself a small goal, such as conquering the 6 billion carbon-based monkeys on this planet …”

- Description from Uukanshu

Rogers Darren is a smoker, drinker, liar, lothario, gold-digger, rule-breaker.At a brutal Marine HQ hearing, Darren faces accusations of scandalous wages, stolen Germa tech, suspicious Celestial Dragon deaths, and a few too many questionable entanglements with nobles-just another day for the greatest disgrace in Marine history.Biting his cigar, Darren simply grins: “I smoke, I drink, I lust for money and women, I crave power, I lie, and I break every rule... but I'm a damn good Marine.”Silence fell like a dropped anchor.(￣□￣；) (ーー゛) (￣o￣)

[Longevity + Discipleship + No Female Lead + Lighthearted Humor with No Tragic Moments]When his master picks food, he spins the table there;When his master chants spells, he chats without a care;When his master takes rest, he sings a lively song;When his master lies late, he bangs the pot along;His master lives on long, but his life is rather short;His master lays him down on the hillside, as a sort;His master lifts a cup, but he won’t take a drink;His master shares a tale, but he won’t stop to think;His master holds a feast, but he leaves the table wide;His master calls his soul, but he’s nowhere to abide.Spring returns to the hills, with blooms so bright and fair,Yet master and disciple are parted, one in heaven, one elsewhere.