I Love You, Monster: The Blindfolded Wife x The Masked Husband - Chapter 499: Thousands, of stolen photos

An unnamed 34-year-old Japanese NEET is evicted from his home following his parents' death.

Upon some self-introspection, he concludes that his life was ultimately pointless.

Walking down a street he intercepts a speeding truck heading towards a group of teenagers, in an attempt to do something meaningful for once in his life he manages to pull one of them out of harm's way before getting himself in the way of the truck and dying.

Awakening in a baby's body, he realizes he has been reincarnated in a world of sword and sorcery.

He resolves to become successful in his new life, discarding his past identity for his new life as Rudeus Greyrat.

Li Mo, who went to Korea to inherit the legacy of the second master, got the inheritance of a spiritual master from a different world from a mysterious bead.

Use the general knowledge and ability of plug-ins to make fine wine, and by the way, make a cameo appearance as a black-hearted businessman.

The little spiritual master mixed in South Korea started a low-key and extraordinary new life.

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- Description from novelbuddy

Chinese fringe international Licado became the alien Ronaldo’s half-brother in 2002.

This is a nearly omnipotent Ronaldo who has not been plagued by injuries.

As a huge fan of Ronaldo, Licado is his biggest supporter?

And when he himself picked up the Golden Globe for the first time said, “He [Ronaldo] didn’t lose to me, he wouldn’t lose to anyone,” . He just lost to time … ”

Without a system, without a golden finger, rebirth is his greatest luck.

- 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.