MTL - Not a Trainer This Time - Chapter 5 back mountain

“My turn, draw cards”

“It’s better to use this one if you’re fighting”

Looking at the card in his hand, Yue Si gave a villainous smile.

- Description from novelbuddy

Ray was more of an average guy in everything, whether it was appearance, in sports, or in school. Ray lost his parents in a car accident when he was little so he grew up in an orphanage.

He had no friends and was always bullied in school cause he was skinny so he was an easy target.

Then one day when he was running away from bullying he ended up in front of a truck that crushed him and he died.

But his life didn't end there as he reincarnated in a fantasy world but as a beast.

But with his bad luck, he was reincarnated as a low level beast with low stats, but he has a trump card, An evolution system that helps him in this new world. How will he evolve and become the strongest of All.

Renji Kurozawa was just another nobody—until he died and was reincarnated in a world of swords and magic. Summoned alongside other “Chosen Heroes,” he hoped for a second chance at life.But his gift was different. “Death Claim”—the power to steal abilities from those he kills.Betrayed by his allies and left for dead, Renji embraces his dark power. With every enemy he slays, he grows stronger, turning from a forgotten outcast into the most feared force in the kingdom.Now, hunted as a villain and pursued by gods, Renji must carve his own path—one kill at a time.If fate wants a monster, he’ll give them one.

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.