MTL - The End of the World - Chapter 100

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.

Through the pirate world, I can resurrect the dead and get one of its abilities.

It is said that pirates are immortal, I want to see, in addition to Roger, which other unlucky person has been written to death.

Luffy: “My brother is dead, I never won a game against him when I was a kid.”

Zoro: “My girlfriend died, and I never won a game against her when I was a kid.”

Sanji: “You still have a girlfriend? Ah, my mother died of illness.”

Usopp: “My mother died too.”

Nami: “It’s good to die, my mother was killed.”

Robin: “It’s okay, my mother was killed too.” Everyone: “???”

Whitebeard: “Zefa, I didn’t expect you to die. I was killed by your disciple. My son made up the knife. Who killed you?”

Zefa: “I was killed by my disciple! Let’s go get revenge together!”

Whitebeard: “Yes, but let’s fight first!”

The most chaotic confession in the pirate world..

- Description from novelbuddy

In a distant future, the empires of mankind span the galaxy, and glorious Earth has devolved into a peripheral backwater.

In Shanjing city in the Asian region, Wang Zheng’s dreams of becoming a mech pilot are crushed when his college entrance exam genetic score turns out a pathetic twenty eight, barely above an animal.

To make things worse, people get the impression he attempted suicide after being rejected by the campus beauty.

Then the closest thing to a family he has, the old man in the book store across the road, goes missing, leaving him only a mysterious birthday present.

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.