Forgotten Legend of the Bloodied Flower - Chapter 2526 - 2528: Little Fan Girl~

Bags of salt, spices and sugar stacked from inside the shop all the way out into the streets. Merchants loaded with goods going flooded the streets with their carriages.

Lin Xing has the ability to turn back time.Whenever he faces a life-threatening danger, he would return to the past.He falls to his death, and returns 5 seconds earlier.He is killed by a falling object, and returns 1 minute earlier.He is struck down by a dump truck, and returns 20 minutes earlier.Then one day... he finds himself having returned to one year ago.

There was once an innocent little boy who was about to graduate high school. But suddenly, a truck ran him over before he could step foot in adult life.From his cruel twist of fate, he learns that after a person dies, they simply go to a result screen—a simple score system based on how publicly known they are.Being the nobody, he only had enough points to use the wheel spin—three shots that would determine his upcoming life.The wheel first landed on females, crushing his hope of keeping his gender. But he wasn't just going to give up so easily as the male section remained.The next spin didn't land on what he hoped for.With one last shot, he slammed the button and prayed. A miracle, almost as if god answered his prayer, appeared right before his eyes as it landed on a male.“Thank you, god! I knew you'd never give up on me like that——Wait, what do you mean that's a bug?”Before he could say anything, he was reborn into a fantasy world where magic and cultivation coexist.Want to find out what he got for his upcoming adventure? Well, let's just say he experiences the three stages of grief with his awful luck.

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.