Falling in Love With My Arranged-Marriage Husband - Chapter 138 - 112 Night Market Disturbance

I found a girl of unknown origin outside; she claims to be a time traveler from a post-apocalyptic era.Great calamity is imminent, with abominations spreading across the land, human civilization annihilated, and even the world itself shattering, all beyond redemption.As for myself,I am considering how to confine this beautiful girl, who has temporarily lost her powers, within my home.

An F-Class Hunter.

After being framed by her stepmother, she had spent the entire night with that mysterious man. In the end, she was forced to leave another country. Five years later, she returned with a pair of beautiful dragon and phoenix treasures! However, on the day of her return, she had offended the handsome CEO. What shocked her even more was that this CEO and her son looked exactly the same! “A pair of cute photos of Gongzi Bao accidentally went viral on the internet. One day, the CEO stepped forward and blocked her path.” “Woman, let’s talk about the right to the care of children!” “Let’s not talk about it!” A man placed her against the wall, “Alright, let’s not talk about our children. Let’s talk about when we can get a marriage certificate!”

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.