Genius Detective - Chapter 906: Catching The Wolf

Welcome to Hell’s Game.[Entering instance: Bloody Restaurant][The position you applied for: Delivery Person][Your customers include: a fat otaku emitting a corpse stench, a maid who bursts at the slightest disagreement...][Your colleagues include: A boss who's too pretty to be human, A cow or a horse in the literal sense, a man-eating tree that swears in French...]Facing these incredible characters, Liu Zheng, who wanted to be a decent person, had no choice but to give up on humanity.

Catastrophe erupted, it was the end of the world.

Survivors were surrounded by the impregnable wall, a new order was established…

The desire for power, faith, and darkness pervaded each other, layer upon layer of brands imprinted in every corner of the heart.

The virus wreaked havoc, were these humans’ true colors?

“I unexpectedly survive, I want to live.” –Du Dian

[Linguistics Skill: Lv0 (7/10)] [Apothecary Skill: Lv1 (15/100)] [Knight Breathing Skill: Lv2 (36/200)] [Knight Breathing Skill Experience Point +1] ------ In the year 3077 of the Berta calendar, during the era of confusion before wizards had reached the throne, he brought them ’Straight A Student Panel.’ He stepped into the sorcerer world, perfected sorcerer knowledge, like a bright moon dispelling the mists of the era. He was Ivan Marichardon, a pioneer of knowledge, he blazed trails for the way of the sorcerer.

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.