I Became a Food Developer in Another World - Chapter 70 - : Cereal (2)

Being able to learn any skill immediately, and just by raising its proficiency, stand at the summit.

He is the World Chef Association Honorary Chairman, having the title of the World Chef God.

He is the greatest composer, pianist, and conductor after Beethoven and Mozart.

He also has the title of Underground Racing King, Fist King, Gambling King, Giant of the Stock Exchange Market, Arm of the Industries and King of the Skies.

He who has a miraculous learning ability and can stand at the apex of all things if he so wishes for it, the Omni Genius.

- Description from Novelupdates

A Di [legitimate-born] daughter of a noble house turns into an abandoned daughter. No father to dote on her, no mother to love her, no problem. She uses one silver needle to save a dying man. What’s so unusual about a medical injection? She roams all over the world with a scalpel in her hand. Cutting throats, cutting open abdomens, cutting open skulls to mend bones. With amazing medical skills and ethics, she gathers a flock of officials, obtains the will of heavens, gains public favor, and receives Taizi’s [Crown Prince] doting. In the midst of a powerful momentum, her cheap father comes to reunite. She coldly refuses to go home or acknowledge ancestors.

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.