MTL - Strongest Martial God - Chapter 3359 For the fascination

Pei Shiyi, who had been dead for hundreds of years, was suddenly resurrected. He was poor, homeless and was an unregistered resident. In order to settle down, Pei Shiyi took over a cat cafe.

The cat cafe was poorly managed and on the verge of closing down, there were only two to three real kittens.

Pei Shiyi fed the kittens and set a small goal for himself: for example, first, become the best cat cafe in this city. So a year later, a cat cafe called Xian Chan rose to prominence.

The Jin Hua cat that practiced Daoism for hundreds of years became a fat orange cat.

The Bi An came here and became a golden British shorthair.

The lively and active leopard cat was a real leopard.

It also came with a fluff-obsessed, non-human Director of Administration. After sniffing* the fat orange cat, the leopard cat and the ragdoll, he even began sniffing* Pei Shiyi.

The fluffy Pei Shiyi, who was a real phoenix: Do you want to die?

Director Bao: Sniffing cats is fun, sniffing you is addictive.

- Description from Novelupdates

In a world of magic and monsters, I carved out my own empire. Hellfire Studios - my brainchild, my legacy.It all started with “The Demonfather” - a blatant copy from my past life, sure, but this world had never seen anything like it. Humans, elves, dwarves - they all fell in love with it. Critics raved, audiences cheered, and suddenly, I was on top.But the world thought I was a one-hit wonder. They had no idea what was coming.I unleashed “The Lord of the Rings” upon them. The result? Critics were left speechless, fumbling for words to describe what they'd witnessedBut why stop at movies? This world was stuck in the past, so I dragged it into the future. I created computers, birthed video games, and watched as everyone from imps to elf elders became addicted to pixels and polygons.Still not satisfied, I turned to music. I crafted stars, produced hits, and soon had the entire realm dancing to my tunes.But even that wasn't enough. Comics, manga, cartoons, anime, novels - I introduced them all. I flooded this world with stories and art forms they'd never dreamed of.Before long, people weren't just consuming my creations - they begun worshipping me. They started calling me “The Lord of Entertainment.”

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.

“Do you like me?” “Yes...” “When did it start?” “A long time ago...” “Will you always like me?” “The fireworks...will always be with you...”Looking at her upturned face, the girl's timid hand was gently lifted up. The warmth in her palm has always been so familiar. “Want to go watch the fireworks together?” “Yes.”The summer fireworks blooming in the deep night are just like your touching and tender smile twelve years ago.----------------------------------PS: Youth daily life story, childhood friend single female protagonist.