MTL - Wei and Jin Cooks - Chapter 769 flying arrow

Mr. Tycoon Is Actually the Father of My Child!

Dual cultivation isn't a choice; it's a necessity.

After being struck by a truck like most lucky protagonists (or unlucky ones), Vaan found himself transmigrated into the body of an orphan in the world of witches and demons.

However, they didn't always exist.

Demons terrorized the world ever since the Gehenna Realm descended over 300 years ago. but along with them, came mana, giving birth to witches to combat these demons.

Since then, the world of men was dominated by witches, establishing the seven witch kingdoms, which safeguards at the forefront of the demon invasion.

In order to survive in the matriarchal society of the witch kingdoms, Vaan, like all other men who cannot use magic, had to learn how to service the witches to survive.

Nevertheless, it did not come without its own benefits.

Years of research have led the world to the discovery of intimacy between men and women could increase the witches' mana absorption.

But at the same time, men could absorb some of this mana to improve their physique and lifespan.

Thus, since then, an intricate relationship was formed between men and witches in the red-light districts. Love became casual, and dual cultivation is common.

As a prodigy in the art of pleasing women, Vaan lived a smooth two years since his transmigration as an orphan.

However, everything came crashing down in a heartbeat one day when his life was nearly taken, and Lady Eniwse whom he served went berserk.

Even so, that was not the end.

With the awakening of the Witch Hunter System, watch how Vaan takes on the world and becomes the lord of witches.

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Note: Contains lemons.
Hunting witches does not necessarily imply killing witches if you know what I mean ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

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.