MTL - Warrior’s Promise - Chapter 2915 Xiao Yijian Tianxiong

[Warning: The title might be named this way, but we’re actually NOT on hiatus.]I’m a third-rate writer, Yu Il-Shin.So don’t think that I’m actually a god; it’s just a name.One day, I experienced the much-anticipated awakening, but my newfound skill was… kinda weird?…In the small world connected through my mobile phone where the little, weak ants were getting killed regarded me as their god?

Karl Wagner is a disgruntled middle-aged instructor at the Bundeswehr Command and Staff College. He finds himself concerned about the direction which the German nation is headed in—just as he is killed by a terrorist attack. Only to awaken and find himself reborn as an infant, Bruno von Zehntner, the youngest son of a noble family renowned for its part in the German war industry a few years after the founding of the German Empire. Bruno, as he is now known, desires to rewrite history and ensure the German Empire emerges victorious in the coming century. And in doing so, finds himself entrenched in a world filled with Blood and Iron!

Knights of the Round Table, Dino Fighter, King of Fighters, Romance of the Three Kingdoms, Metal Slug, Street Fighter, Samurai Shodown, Journey to the West, countless arcade games, have made their debut in the form of special copies.And the adventurers who take risks in these games are destined to have every journey as a life-and-death contest, except…A white dagger and a white pistol are fused to a green pistol.A green pistol and a green pistol are fused to a blue revolver.A blue revolver and a blue BOSS exclusive equipment are fused to Terhune’s wife… Hey?!Looking at the upgraded new equipment in his hand, Qin Ming was a little dumbfounded.No! Director! This is different from what was agreed!

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.