Okami Wa Nemuranai - Chapter 52.1

A Sword Dao expert, mastering Sword Control across thousands of miles, traverses heaven and earth.An Peak Alchemy Master with supreme power, their Medicine City can revive the dead and regenerate bones.A Talismanic Elixir can annihilate strong enemies and demons.The youngest Eternal Life Pill Master of the continent is betrayed during the refining of an Immortal Pill.Three years later, a young man named Chu Feng from the fallen Sword King Mansion joins the Ten Thousand Sword Sect.The enemies and treacherous disciples who once opposed the Eternal Life Pill Master are now in utter fear.

Mu Mu transmigrated in the novel that had the plot like a fraud marriage with a man dressed in women’s clothing, rich man regretting and taking revenge after rebirth.

The body he had transmigrated into was none other than that of a scumbag who was a fraud man dressed in women’s clothing. He was also the one that the protagonist took revenge against.

And now, he was standing at the door of the Civil Affairs Bureau with that damn protagonist, holding the newly-released marriage certificate in his hand.

Mu Mu agitatedly raised his head. He saw the fierce and sinister expression on that damn protagonist. He was twitching the corners of his mouth, showing a grim smirk of wishing to eat his blood and flesh.

Mu Mu’s legs were weak and his eyes turned dark. He was trembling: “My good brother, why don’t we get a divorce?”

- Description from Novelupdates

Initially I am just another ordinary gamer. I often wondered how my novice skills compare with real masters, the professional gamers.

Then one day, two stunning beauties asked me, “Are you willing to be a professional gamer, and conquer the world?”

I replied: “Yes, I am willing”

After that, bit by bit, I unknowingly become a professional gamer, and conquered the world!

This is my story.

- Description from Novelupdates

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.