MTL - Ninth in The World - Chapter 10 Sinking

A legendary powerhouse of his generation, tired of the bustle of the peak, returned to the ordinary city and started a new life as an ordinary teacher. He wrote the legend in the city.

Magnificent mountains and rivers, the rising powerful ones. Some ancient martial art masters stood at the peak, becoming legendary. Some financial crocodiles rose up in the minuscule places, laughing arrogantly.

However, watching the school beauties was better than fighting and killing; educating was better than fighting for fame.

- Description from Novelupdates

Thousands of races coexist, where the sword and Magic shine together, the Human Race, Sea Race, Elves, Dwarfs, Orcs ... all rush to unfold the light of civilization, composing their epic tragedies!(A Lord's Farming Tale)

Having been married for two years, he only takes her as an enemy. He never touches her, and even insult her in front of other women, “Si Wan, you are the most disgusting woman in the world.” Facing his ruthlessness, she decides to leave, “Gong Siming, if you don’t love, just let me go.” But he replied dominantly, “Si Wan, of course I love you.” Si Wan is caught in a trance. And he goes on, “I want to love you tenderly every night.”

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.