Starting With One Million Luck Points - Chapter 1100 - extraordinary performance

【Survival + Wasteland Reclamation】

Welcome to Survival World!

Here, forget everything you once had and try to live!

In the beginning, there is no tool other than a tree house seed, but you need to find hope in this dangerous jungle.

[Unlocking the creator permission of Survival World…]

what’s the situation? !

[Creator permission unlock failed…]

What is the situation? ? ?

- Description from novelbuddy

The King of Hell sentences you to death by midnight, but I can ensure that you live past morning.

The young man, Qin Lang, received the inheritance of a poison school by chance. He uses poison to kill people, uses poison to save people and he uses poison to chase beauties. With body of ancient extinct poison and a body of a martial artist, he walks around the city, and wanders around in the underworld.

- Description from Novelupdates

Ruins stretched across the landscape in the apocalypse after the nuclear war.

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.