Taming The Villainesses - Chapter 330.2

After Chu Zheng was inexplicably judged to be dead, the only trouble was – spending money.

Since the binding of this system, her waist has not been sore, her legs have not hurt, and she is not even breathing. She lives in fear of spending money every day.

System: Let’s set a small goal and defeat it by 100 million… Miss, stop! Don’t just turn on the invincible mode! (▼ dish▼#)

Chuzheng: Can you first explain what this thing holding my thigh is?

Something: Baby, you can do whatever you want.

Chuzheng: (touching the knife) Well, then I’m welcome.

System: Miss, please put down the butcher knife! ! (▼へ▼メ)

#Miss, you can really do whatever you want, find out#

- Description from novelbuddy

A no-name character that never appeared in the novel.An extra.Neo became that extra character....Transmigrating into the novel and gaining the bloodline of Hades, the God of Death, was supposed to be the best thing to happen in Neo’s life.So…Why?[Unique Skill: Death][Skill Effect: You die]Why did he awaken this damned skill!?

When I was 15-years-old, during the year that I graduated from middle school, my father told me this.

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.