MTL - Using a Wok to Reorganize Life and Fly to Immortality - ~ Work related

In the King’s game, the [King]’s order is absolute and has the power to create rules. As the owner of a special physique, Gu Huai was selected by the system to participate in the game. “Win the game and become the [King], and you can obtain whatever it is you desire.”

- Description from Novelupdates

Su Xuan traveled across the parallel world and became a policeman!

At the ex-girlfriend’s wedding scene, Su Xuan took out a silver bracelet in front of her, and gave the groom a three-day trip to the police station!

Ex-girlfriend: Su Xuan, are you crazy? If you want to rob a marriage, shouldn’t you rob me? What’s the matter with arresting my husband?

Bind the god-level criminal system, and catch criminals to get rewards!

Targeted search, petty criminals and big criminals don’t want to escape!

Take a bus and catch the bag thief.

Wandering in a shopping mall, I came across a scene of abduction and trafficking.

Make up a salary card, accidentally become a hostage…

When other police officers were still patrolling the streets, Su Xuan had already become a hot topic in current affairs, and he was trying to arrest the arrester.

The criminals are broken: did the cop put a pointing device on them?

The police officers cried: Brother, give it a chance, leave some seams!

Key words of the novel: At the ex-girlfriend’s wedding, do you send the groom to jail? No pop-up window, ex-girlfriend wedding, do you send the groom to jail? txt Complete Works Download, ex-girlfriend wedding, you sent the groom to prison? The latest chapter to read

- Description from novelbuddy

Humanity, on the verge of reaching the singularity through AI advancement, fell before it could grasp it.In a cyberpunk world where Seoul—and even all of Korea—no longer exists, a story unfolds of someone living leisurely amidst the chaos.

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.