MTL - Cultivating In Secret Beside A Demoness - Chapter 660 Master Xiaoli stole something for me to eat

Karl Adelheit, a self-proclaimed ordinary student returning from military service.

And a nobleman who enlisted as a soldier and received Medals of Honor.

This crossing is so strange, death crossing, game crossing, etc. are probably barely acceptable, but why can you cross even if the fish tank is broken?

and actually passed through the magic tree in “OVERLORD” that is said to be able to destroy the world?

No! It is sad enough to regenerate into a plant. The protagonist, Ainz Ur Gong, the undead king, has also accepted the adventurer’s guild mission and wants to kill me!

I want to change my destiny! Live! I want to-surrender!

Ainz: Since he has accepted the job commission from the Adventurer’s Guild, deliberate failure is detrimental to the prestige of Ainz Ul Christine (the “surrender” button has been deducted)

actually died as soon as he crossed, but there is still a chance to return~ from the beginning of the magic tree to this world.

I must change my destiny this time! Live!

- Description from novelbuddy

I was nothing. A lowly omega, destined to live in the shadows of stronger wolves. But on the night of my eighteenth birthday, the moon had other plans for me. My mate was an Alpha’s son. The problem? He wasn’t the only one. The Blackwood triplets—Kael, Ronan, and Darian—each bore the same mark that bound them to me.To be Luna, I would have to survive the chaos of three powerful mates, a jealous rival who wanted my place, and a secret buried deep in my bloodline.Because being chosen by the moon was never a gift. It was a curse.

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.