After Transmigration, She Sold Herself to a Man as a Wife - Chapter 163

Anthony has been reborn! Placed into the remarkable game-like world of Pangera.

However, something seems a little off. What's with these skills? Bite? Dig?

Wait....

I've been reborn as a WHAT?!

Follow Anthony as he attempts to adjust to his new life, to survive and grow in his new Dungeon home!

An unearthly beauty with black hair, snow-white skin, and bright red lips... Yue Ran has been told that she was born exceptionally beautiful for as long as she can remember. She meets all people's expectations for beauty, but she is a girl who loves no one but herself.Only such a person can be invincible in many small worlds.Ah, but there is one thing she lacks: free will.

In the peaceful Ning City, the Shen family had two lovely daughters. The elder Miss Shen, Shen Ru, was smart and capable, while the second Miss Shen, Shen Yan, was charming and beautiful.

One day, a third daughter, Shen Wan, appeared.

Shen Wan was quiet and unremarkable. She looked weak and helpless.

Mr. Shen said, “Let her stay.”

Mrs. Shen said, “A daughter born to a lowly woman is still lowly.”

Shen Ru said, “She’s too plain and simple.”

Shen Yan said, “Brother Qi dislikes unattractive things the most.”

Shen Wan coldly smiled and thought, Don’t worry, take it easy. None of you can escape!’

–

In her past life, Shen Wan lost all her blood, her organs were hollowed out, and she died on a cold operating table.

She lived thirty years without having any children.

In this life, she came for revenge. She carefully planned every step and turned Ning City upside down. But inadvertently, she drew the attention of a demon king.

The people respectfully called Quan Hanting “Lord Six”. He was cold and heartless, and his identity was a mystery.

[Little Cute Bundle]

“I heard that when I was born, Papa was in so much pain that he almost died. Yeah, Mama bit him!”

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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.