Trapped in Another World With No Magic - Chapter 133: Adrenaline Rush

The hearse with the weird odor slowed to a stop before the entrance. The sound of pebbles could be heard bouncing on the ceiling. There were footsteps coming from the corridor, and there seemed to be someone sawing next door. The door knob to the room rattled slightly, and the faucet in the bathroom kept dripping even though it had been screwed shut. There was a rubber ball that rolled on its own underneath the bed. Wet footsteps started to surface one after another on the floor.
At 3 am, Chen Ge held a cleaver in his hand as he hid beside the room heater. The call he was trying to make was finally answered. “Landlord, is this what you meant by ‘the house can be a little crowded at night’‽”

- Description from Novelupdates

Every novel has a slag character, the one who decides to abandon the protagonist at his lowest, most helpless point, either because he can’t stand the poor guy’s circumstances or for other reasons. But after the protagonist wins his way in life again, they’re the ones who beg with broken sobs to be taken back.

Still, water once spilled can’t be recovered again.

Yet the unlucky Shen Jiayan has been bound to a Water Recovery* System to do just that.

*water recovery – comes from an idiom that means “spilled water can’t be recovered” (English equivalent: there’s no use crying over spilt milk).

- Description from Novelupdates

Born and raised as a nameless shadow guard for his kingdom’s crown prince, his life’s purpose was to be used and discarded at the whims of his liege.

And his meaningless life ended when the gaze of a princess lingered on him for too long. The crown prince had him beheaded without a second thought, as if throwing out trash.

Transmigrating into the body of a baby girl, the nameless shadow finally had a name, a family, and a place to call her own. Throwing away his past, the shadow guard was now called ‘Emilia’, and walked on a new path to seek fulfillment.

It was not meant to be, however, as the girl whom she had loved with all her heart and soul ended up mercilessly plunging a dagger through Emilia's love-struck heart at the highest point in her life.

The crowd clamored at the ‘deserved death of the villainess’, and at that moment, the shadow could only wonder… why?

Why am I always the one to dedicate myself fully to someone, only to be thrown away like trash in the end?

And thus, as her soul floated away while cursing in resentment, ‘Emilia’ vowed to herself that in her next life she shall never be the one to fully dedicate herself.

Whatever she likes shall be held in her palm, and shall never escape.

The moment the vow was made, a self-proclaimed villainess system proposed to partner with her, to explore and conquer the worlds through their anchors—the heroes and heroines.

And by cultivating this energy, she shall one day go back. Back to the world she was born as ‘Emilia’ in, and face the so-called heroine once more.

The second time they meet, Emilia won’t be the one drowning in regret!

...

Author's Note: The heroines are not just trophies she’s collecting, only to be forgotten once she collects them. Each of them will remain relevant throughout the story. And it won’t become a mess, promise!

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.