MTL - Atypical Heroine - Chapter 112 Ji Yu [Ending]

Due to an unexpected turn of events, Xia Fei consumed a Super Gene Optimization Fluid that bore no brand, expiry date, instructions or stated its place of origin.
Our story begins here…

Sunless once wondered why the stars shone so brightly, despite being far out of reach. There was a scientific explanation out there, but he didn’t care about that. If the world wanted to spite him, he’d spite the world back.Sunny will reach for the stars, grasp them, and crush them, drowning the universe with a lightless sky.

Doctor Jiang Fei, considered closing down the clinic because business was so bad, but unexpectedly his game character entered his body, making him omnipotent.

Not only is he superb in medicine, he also controls the life or death of the flesh bones of the dead person, and just like Yama he snatches people’s life.

He is now proficient in even cooking, playing piano, gardening, and domesticating pets!

People thought this was all of Jiang Fei’s skill, but Jiang Fei would smile and look at the martial arts cheats book. ‘The Dragon’s 18 palms’, ‘Six-pulse excalibur’, ‘Northern Profound Magic’, ‘Lone Solitary 9 Swords’

- Description from Novelupdates

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.