MTL - Sell Evil - Chapter 14 Wasps strike

He had lived a thousand lives… some were long and precious and some short-lived, forgotten in the back of his mind.

This time, he was born as baby Lee Seo-jun.

Elves… fairies… slimes… gift box… devils… he’ll use the mystical abilities from his past lives to captivate and capture the hearts of the people and become an idol, a superstar.

Using the memories of his life akin to a fairy tale, he’ll become an idol that will be remembered in the annals of history.

……………………………………………………………

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The apocalyptic girl Luo Qiao dressed as a poor little girl with supernatural powers.

I got a space by chance, which is really gratifying.

However, he found that he not only traveled through but also wore a book, and the original body in the book had a tragic fate!

Hehe, with powers and space in hand, Luo Qiao said she didn’t need anyone.

But the disabled boss in the village, who was said to be eccentric, wanted to help her everywhere.

Luo Qiao rolled her eyes, hehe, it’s not bad to hug your thighs and find a backer first.

See how a beautiful wife is raised, and see how Luo Qiao is free. …

- Description from novelbuddy

Finally passing through reincarnation Lou Feng and his two guests arrive at the Origin Continent. Far away from their primal universe, they must rebuild their status of invincibility, but this journey will surely be filled with obstacles.Disclaimer: This is not my original work and do not take any credit for the original Chinese version of this novel. I am simply translating it. If you are the original copyright holder and want it taken down, please contact and I will do it immediately. Please support the author at: https://www.qidian.com/book/1039391177/

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.