I Refuse to Become Scumbag in Tokyo - Chapter 533: It’s just happen

Betrayed by her boyfriend, Luo Yaoyao got herself drunk in a nightclub and mistook Yu Aotian, the powerful leader of Imperial Dragon Society in Japan, for a waiter.

She was brought to a room by him, but when he was going to force her, he saw a scar on her shoulder…It reminded him of a little girl in his old days…

After graduated, Luo Yaoyao returned to China and became an elevator lady in Bosch Group. However, she didn’t know the company was purchased by Yu Aotian.

The other day, she met him in the elevator and he recognized her…

He asked others to turn the camera off and kissed her although she kept screaming and struggling. At this moment, his phone rang and he had to let her go.

But they both knew it was not the ending…What would he do to her? And what happened in their past?

Amamiya Hiroto is unlucky. His life consisted of misfortune after misfortune, culminating in an unlucky death during an incident on a school boat trip, trying to save a girl he barely knew. After death, he met a god of reincarnation who requested that the hundred or so dead passengers—one of them being the girl he tried in vain to save—be reincarnated into another world.

In the midst of a mall parking lot turned battleground, Korig stands with a crowbar in his hands, blood-stained and bewildered.

Chaos reigns as the world crumbles into a nightmare of undead horrors.

Amid the panic, a digital screen materializes, thrusting Korig into a twisted game of survival.

“Main Objective: Survive the Zombie Apocalypse for an hour.”

“Bonus quest: Kill 100 zombies.”

The countdown begins, and Korig must navigate the terror around him, battling both the flesh-hungry undead and the enigmatic rules of a malevolent system.

As time slips away, Korig's past and present collide, revealing secrets that could be the key to his survival.

Will he conquer the unholy countdown, or become another victim in this relentless System Mania?

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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.