Transmigrated into a Female-Oriented Card Game - Chapter 142

I never thought I could become a hunter.I never thought I would get the chance.But that wasn’t true.「 ‘Tower of Trials’ has selected all suitable candidates from Earth. 」「 Please select your difficulty. 」「The chosen difficulty will be directly proportional to your rewards. 」I was given a chance now.A special one at that.

A maid who is beaten on behalf of a noble boy.

Some memories of her childhood were cruel, but Yuriel held no resentment towards the boy. Rather, she liked it–The hand that carefully applied medicine to her wounds was always warm.

“M-Master, stop, Raph, sa, save…ah, mm…!”
“That’s why.. I told you.. to wait.. till I returned.”

But the Raphlet that appeared in her dreams showed nothing but passion and lust.

Prophetic dreams.
The ability that was like a stigma drove Yuriel towards an unknown future.

All I want is to be next to you.

While trying to survive, Eddie needs to create his Serum. But, all these works make his life pressure continues to grow.Especially after he meets Ada Wong.All he can do is 'Fighting' with the female Wesker to calm the stress.As for Alex, Jill, and Rebecca. Eddie *cough* does not know them... Maybe just friends that like to hang out and drink coffee together?Wait... You tell me they all had children?In the future?Ah, I see... Still, who is the children's father?

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.