Reborn As Lucky Star - Chapter 12 - Retribution is Inescapable

Our straight (?) bottom woke up ten years into the future and found himself on the bed of his childhood friend… At the start, the bottom was shocked to his very bones, but he soon quickly accepted this premise and found the whole situation to be rather amusing. Precisely then, the bottom once again went back to his timeline — back to when he and the top were just platonic childhood friends.

Landmines include but are not limited to: Sweet & naive bottom, a president story, logic is dead, slow-progressing romance, the protagonist’s name has too many character strokes, the names are hard to pronounce, too many gay characters…

- Description from novelupdates

What should I do if I cross to another world and become an NPC?

This idea has been deeply rooted and sprouted in William’s mind!

Therefore, he decided:

I want to be the strongest NPC in history.

Wear the thickest armour and give the most vicious beatings!

Who says an NPC will be killed by players?

Who says an NPC upgrades more slowly than players?

Who says an NPC must explode equipment, I can explode in more ways… Bah humph.

Anyway, it’s impossible for me to die. Just take a look at all you trash players. Your father will stand here and let you chop for an hour without a frown!

- Description from Novelupdates

Su Yao, who was clearly a real daughter but died, was reborn.

In her last life, she swallowed her anger, and then she was cruel and cruel.

No one would think it would be too fishy to suck her blood.

Once again, she will be the last month, crowned with pearls, shining brightly.

Someone followed behind her while digging a hole for her, and painstakingly persuaded her:

Without so much effort, do you see the crown on my head?

You are the most gorgeous one above.

- Description from novelbuddy

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.