MTL - Lessons on Raising a Partner - Chapter 111 Burning

As a transmigrator turned extraordinary creature of the human race, he found the world to be more colorful than he had imagined.To more easily access everything this new realm had to offer, he first needed a special resume. Then, he had to find the right place in a city perennially shrouded in fog to fill out an application, and the last and most critical step...— was to kill a chicken or catch a mouse.

Freshly turned eighteen, John Newman, a helpless nerd, suddenly gets video game abilities granted to him. A mysterious higher power, a secret Abyss of magic beneath the surface of the normal world, mages, martial artists, eroticism, tragedy and a harem of hot girls awaits.

As Orson read the novel written by the girlfriend who had left him, he gently remarked on how terrible the story was. But then, noticing a foul smell coming from the kitchen, he went to investigate. He realized there was some kind of gas leak. Already furious about being dumped, Orson became even angrier at the state of his kitchen, and in his rage, he hit the light switch with a powerful punch. Naturally, the explosion that followed killed him instantly, and Orson passed into the afterlife.After spending some time in limbo, he found himself reincarnated in an unfamiliar world. However, he quickly realized he had been reborn inside the cliché-filled novel written by his ex-girlfriend. As if that wasn’t enough, he had ended up in the body of Neonidas, a useless duke who was also the fiancé of the story's villainess.____There may be a bit too much swearing and slang in the first chapters, but it gets less afterwards.There will be no yuri, bl or ntr in Neonidas(MC) harem

[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.