TRANSMIGRATED WITH A HYPERMARKET SYSTEM - Chapter 110 - 109: THEY ARE NOT DEAD

Julian, the son of Duke Alden and the grandson of Grand Duke Augustus stood Infront of the crystalline ball that emanated mana.The crystal absorbed his mana and started glowing with purplish hue, with a sparks of lightning.“Yes, I have unlocked Lightning Affinity,” Julian said, a spark of excitement lighting up his blue eyes.Suddenly, the ball began absorbing too much mana, Julian's eyes widened in horror as the energy swirled out of control, crackling with an intensity that was and terrifying. Just as he realized the danger, the ball erupted in a blinding flash, a shockwave of power surging outward.Julian wasn't hurt, but he felt a strange sensation as a dark mist swirled in front of him. Suddenly, he saw a strange entity, a shadowy figure, slip into his forehead.Then, Julian heard an unfamiliar sound echo in his head:“WELCOME TO THE MILF SYSTEM.”Connecting....SuccessInitializing.......Success“FUCK THE MILFS AND GET STRONGER, CONQUER THE MILFS, CONQUER THE WORLD.” , The voice saidCuriosity piqued, Julian quickly asked, “Can you tell me more about the MILF SYSTEM?”The voice continued, ”Sure, The MILF SYSTEM will help you reach unimaginable power as a mage. You will need to complete the tasks assigned to you and earn points.“

In the era of Beast Taming, Ye Xuan with his superior Beast Editor, claims that he can turn even a snake into a Divine Dragon that soars across the nine heavens.

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.

The hearse with the weird odor slowed to a stop before the entrance. The sound of pebbles could be heard bouncing on the ceiling. There were footsteps coming from the corridor, and there seemed to be someone sawing next door. The door knob to the room rattled slightly, and the faucet in the bathroom kept dripping even though it had been screwed shut. There was a rubber ball that rolled on its own underneath the bed. Wet footsteps started to surface one after another on the floor.
At 3 am, Chen Ge held a cleaver in his hand as he hid beside the room heater. The call he was trying to make was finally answered. “Landlord, is this what you meant by ‘the house can be a little crowded at night’‽”

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