MTL - The Slag Gong wants to Kill me - Chapter 20

“Abused and disowned by her family after she was found heavily pregnant, Ji Weixi was forced to leave her hometown with nothing to her name. She returns four years later, only to be caught in a job with Li Shaoling, her stepsister’s fiancé-to-be as her boss.

***

Ji Weixi was holding up a certain body part of the child and aiming it at the toilet.

The tot’s brow eased amidst the gushing. “”Comfy…””

Li Shaoling’s gaze was overwhelmingly icy. “”You are not allowed to touch him there!””

Ji Weixi stared at him as if she was staring at an idiot. “”By what right?””

Li Shaoling glared at her. “”You are only allowed to look at mine.””

Never!!!”

- Description from Novelupdates

Dreams are… a reality that only those who are capable can speak about.This was an era marked by the births of geniuses!This was an era where heroes could be found everywhere!The fierce conflict between the aristocrats and the civilians, the open and veiled battles between the Federation and the Empire, the restlessly lurking extraterrestrials…When the principles of truth were within the range of battleship cannons, when order had no place in this world… Mu Fan, with the mysterious intelligent life “Black” and his unwavering will, fiercely tore open the magnificent Great Galaxy Era!

Dr Dalton Wyatt, a world renowned Scientist and Inventor is transmigrated to the body of a high school student Dalton Wyatt who committed suicide due to unfortunate circumstances and complicated life.

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.