MTL - Number One Zombie Wife - Chapter 488

One night she gets drunk and mistakes the most well-known Mafia boss for a Host* and intends to sleep with him.

In the rural northeastern mountainous regions stands a tiny Buddhist temple, named One Finger Temple. It isn’t a large one but it is extremely miraculous.

The temple has rice that emanates an aromatic fragrance.

The temple has sweet and refreshing water that rivals ambrosia.

The temple has Buddhas that grant wishes to the sincere.

The temple isn’t large but it has everything. The temple isn’t large but it has flourishing incense offerings that far exceed all temples. The temple isn’t large but it attracts both citizens and foreigners that line up overnight…

The temple has a bald but handsome monk. Every day, he would bawl, “I want to renounce asceticism! I want to marry a chick that’s not too pretty, have a cute baby, and lead a stable life!”

Karl was just a regular degenerate enjoying some alone time when—BAM!—he died mid-nut. Next thing he knew, he was standing before a smug goddess who bestowed upon him the Power of Stealing.Heroic? Not really. Broken? Absolutely.Now, in a world where strength is everything, Karl discovers his ability and lets him steal powers, skills, and even lovers. With each stolen ability, he grows more potent, turning the tables on arrogant heroes, cocky nobles, and unsuspecting chumps.Why train when you can steal? Why fight fair when you can cheat?Join Karl as he NTRs (or not) his way to the top, taking what he wants and leaving chaos in his wake.Died mid-nutPower of StealingWomen are his buffsThis isn’t a hero’s journey—it’s a shameless, overpowered, completely degenerate adventure.

I was just your average burnout. Now I’m a kobold in a dungeon where everything wants to eat me—and frankly, I get it. I look delicious.Reincarnated as the weakest possible monster in the worst possible place, I start with nothing but panic, backward knees, and a skill called Civilization Mimicry—which is sealed. Because of course it is.But survival isn't the story.This is the story of what comes after.Of finding meaning in the scraps. Of building law from ashes. Of kindling memory in a place designed to erase.Because even if the world sees kobolds as nothing, I’ve seen what we used to be.And I’m going to bring it back.Firelight by firelight. Burial by burial. One fragile tradition at a time.Because if the world wants kobolds to be nothing?Then I’ll teach it what nothing becomes when it learns to dream.