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... ot good.”

My muttered remark was gently picked up by Sasaki-san.

“Why do you think that?”

There was no anger in her voice. She seemed simply perplexed.

“…It’s the usual story. When I was in elementary school, my father was hospitalized for malnutrition. He worked for what you’d call a ‘black company’. He worked late every day and apparently hardly ate proper meals.”

According to what I heard later, his weight was fifteen kilograms less than the average at ...

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A crunchy and crispy chicken. The stretchy cheese on pizza, and eating ramyeon at 1 in the morning! I only wanted to eat delicious food. So why is my life in danger because of bulimia*?!

There’s a place where I can fulfill my most cherished dream of eating everything I want!

The virtual reality game Athenae!

I’m just eating well but isn’t this a bit weird?

The true value of food

(Acquired +1 STR)

The stat went up.

Note: *Raw says 폭식 결여증 which literally means deficiency in binge eating. I’m assuming this is the Non-purging Type of Bulimia.

……………………………………………………………

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The person with the best martial art skill in the world, whose prestige is unparalleled. The head disciple of TianQing sect, the leading sect of all Six Great sects, and Jianghu’s number one, Ming ChangYan shaoxia.

During a decisive battle, he slipped and fell.

His ten years of cultivation was completely annihilated and reduced to a normal human.

Fortunately, he was lucky enough to have fate decide that his life shouldn’t end there, and he survived.

The doctor told him, “To gain back your cultivation, enter the palace as a concubine!”

In order to get the medical herb that was given to the emperor by the XiYu Region, the immortal’s grass, Ming shaoxia could only wear a skirt, apply makeup, endure the humiliation, suffer patiently, and join the palace drama.

Ming ChangYan: This shaoxia is shameless.

Unfortunately, just as he dressed up in drag and entered the palace, he meets the man he once picked up from under a mountain.

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Ming ChangYan: I was joking just now…..this is too shameless!

If I were to be found out by him, my (old) number one reputation would go down the drain!

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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.