MTL - Game, Live Stream - Chapter 113

Xiao Xin, a Pokémon’s diehard powder, accidentally succumbed to death while using the game modifier, the soul passed through the Pokémon world, a child who accidentally swallowed a lightning stone in thunderstorms and was strangled by lightning.

On the body, the most important and most important, he also brought his props backpack in the game…

- Description from Qidian

When Ren Sheng is being hunted, in order to not fall into the hands of his enemies he decides to jump into the crack of space and time. Unexpectedly, he crossed into the future and was forced to substitute as a bride while he was still in a coma.

When he wakes up, he actually has a husband… Ren Sheng is extremely satisfied.

Such a delicious nourishment, this is his first time seeing it! Really want to root up ah ah ah!

As a result Lord Marshal, who was sick in bed, had a “little wife” who has been touching him all day and drooling over him.

As the last abyssal demon in the world, Wen Long was pulled into various worlds to do tasks by a guy who claimed to be a system. The goal of her mission was to save those villains who had been blackened for various reasons…

- 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.