MTL - Emperor Zhengde of Ming Dynasty - Chapter 144 Extraterrestrial

Adam, who mysteriously transmigrated to the Marvel universe over a decade ago, has established the powerful Umbrella Corporation. Now, he's unleashing a new era of viral evolution. The Progenitor Virus, T-Virus, C-Virus, and G-Virus are just the beginning of his sinister plans.As heroes and villains struggle to contain the chaos, new threats emerge: the Blacklight Virus, Z-Virus, and the dreaded Cthulhu Virus. Adam's shadowy influence grows, pushing the Marvel universe to its limits.

On the night of Xiao Ke’s thirtieth birthday, he shared a table while drinking. The person he shared the table with was a cool man who fit all of his aesthetic desires. It was practically love at first sight.

He was thirty; he had reached that age where he was no longer the awkward twenty-something youth. He would pursue the one he liked without hesitation, no questions asked.

“I want you to give me a tattoo. I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

- Description from Novelupdates

I once sat and discussed with Newton, and I also walked side by side with Einstein.

I messed with Planck’s hairstyle, and I also wrote the preface to Zhang Zhongjing’s Treatise on Febrile and Miscellaneous Diseases.

All in all, this is a story about a schoolmaster traveling through time and space in ancient and modern China and abroad, using the wisdom of the predecessors to open up the future of mankind.

What? You say this is unscientific?

No, it’s very scientific!

Note:

This book is a black science and technology article, not the flow of the heavens, not the flow of the infinite, the protagonist will not have superpowers, everyone will know after reading it.

There is also an old book “Handbook of Conquering Another World” high-end 30,000 orders with an average order of 8,000+, welcome to read.

- Description from novelbuddy

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.