MTL - The Rise of Otaku - Chapter 542 Festival madness

Su Han is a transmigrator, and this is not the first time he has transmigrated.

For the first time, I traveled to the digital world, and after clearing the level, I came to the world of the resurrection of the elves.

And awakened digital templates.

In short, it is to find spirits with the same nature as Digimon, and cultivate and evolve Digimon.

And the goblin gym, which happened to be facing the old mother, was going to go bankrupt.

Su Han directly took it down, who said that men can’t open a fairy gym?

Miao Miao — Super Miao Miao — Dilu Beast — Heavenly Girl Beast — Venus Beast!

Lily Root Doll – Balu Beast – Miss Skirt – Flower Fairy Beast – Rose Beast

“Su Han, it’s not bad! You know that the old mother is waiting to hold her grandson, and even has a girlfriend?”

“This girlfriend is not bad, tall and slender! Why is she blindfolded?” Mom.

“?????” Su Han.

…

- Description from novelbuddy

Year 24XX. With several hundred years of improvements, virtual reality has become more mature. It had gradually become humanity’s second world. Socializing, working, studying and other everyday things could all be done while sleeping.

Along with the rise in virtual reality systems, virtual games also developed successfully. Additionally, with the vigorous support of the government; every season, games continued to be born, be changed, competed with each other, and be reborn.

Ye Cang is a black bellied, underachieving, 2nd year student at a city college. He appears to have been cured of his albinism yet his story is still full of mystery. In the game ‘New Age – Conviction’, he began walking the path of a professional gamer. An all-rounder ranger, dark cooking, with a nasty disposition, willing to do anything. He’s slowly creating his own legend.

“Actually… instead of games, I prefer cooking and dramas” – The White Emperor

- Description from novelupdates

The world’s worst offense, is called Love.

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.