MTL - Midnight Cinderella - Chapter 67 Sixty-seventh night

A crunchy and crispy chicken. The stretchy cheese on pizza, and eating ramyeon at 1 in the morning! I only wanted to eat delicious food. So why is my life in danger because of bulimia*?!

There’s a place where I can fulfill my most cherished dream of eating everything I want!

The virtual reality game Athenae!

I’m just eating well but isn’t this a bit weird?

The true value of food

(Acquired +1 STR)

The stat went up.

Note: *Raw says 폭식 결여증 which literally means deficiency in binge eating. I’m assuming this is the Non-purging Type of Bulimia.

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Isn’t it an unwritten rule in the industry that new gacha characters with good performance should not be male characters? The tutorial doesn’t start until 10 years later.

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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.