MTL - Hedonist Sovereign - Chapter 4 Misunderstood

Fat kitty died, killed by a lightning strike while stealing a chicken leg! And then, the kitty was reborn into a rich family in the 80s, which, having had nine grandsons, longed for a granddaughter and instantly made her the most adored one in the family! She was so happy with her life, being pampered by grandma, adored by parents, and protected by big brothers. Of course, it would have been even better if that big bad wolf hadn't cast covetous eyes on her.

Alden Morrison, a disillusioned college student in Tokyo, finds his mundane life turned upside down when a mysterious golden glow offers him a destiny beyond his wildest dreams. Chosen as the Tower Master, Alden is transported to an otherworldly chamber, where he gains the power to oversee the Ascendant Tower—a structure connecting multiple worlds.With his newfound abilities, Alden must manage the tower, create trials for climbers, and harness energy from anchored worlds. As he navigates his responsibilities, Alden must keep his true identity hidden, balancing multiple roles and forging alliances. Each decision he makes will shape the fate of the worlds and the beings within them.Amidst trials and challenges, Alden embarks on an epic journey of discovery and transformation, striving to achieve his ultimate goal. But with power comes danger, and Alden must navigate the treacherous path ahead to fulfill his destiny.#fantasy #urbanfantasy #LitRPG #adventure #magic #towermaster #multiverse #trials #hiddenidentity #gods #climber #power #transformation #epicjourney #mysticalworlds #adventurefantasy

I found myself in a parallel universe, awakening as a male priest. Everything seemed perfect; after all, as a healer, specializing in aiding women should pose no issue, right? However, I couldn’t help but wonder about some peculiar spells in my repertoire.

Firstly, what in the world is the “Instantaneous Outbreak of Acute Gastroenteritis” spell? And don’t even get me started on the “Osteoporosis” spell. What purpose could these serve in my healing endeavors? The confusion only deepened with spells like “Blood Burn,” “Gradual Freeze,” and “Mental Chaos.” Can I still peacefully focus on healing women with such ominous abilities?

Comparing my spells to those of other professions, I couldn’t help but notice the stark contrast. Mages wield “Doomstorm” and “Ice Age,” swordsmen boast “Sword Rain: Homecoming” and “Wind-Cutter Slash,” while archers showcase “Arrow Rain: Shooting Stars” and “Storm Arrow.” Yet, my ultimate spells are disturbingly named “Cancer Cell Proliferation,” “T-Virus Infection,” and “Rabies Outbreak.”

In the midst of it all, a certain character, some crying girl, laments, “Noooo, I just took a bath, who would have thought that I would become infected!”

Meanwhile, a villain chillingly asks, “Do any of you know what it feels like to burst apart while spouting blood? No! You don’t know!”

Even a boss character confesses, “Dear family, who can understand? I just took a nap, and when I woke up, I suddenly found that I have no kidneys!”

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.