Big Life - Chapter 295: True Story (1)

Xu Jin simply bowed a few times in front of the nine star lanterns and came to this world that could guide the starlight into his body. Then, he bowed again in front of the nine star lanterns...

After crossing the sea, he was reborn as a son of a wealthy family in Xiluobu Village in the East China Sea, and he has a lovely and clinging sister Keya.

Inhale the essence of the sun and drink the splendor of the moonlight.

Under the influence of Lanxius, has the fate of the characters in the original Donghai changed?

A bounty hunter came to the Great Route, to wield the power of the lunar sun.

Who said this world is dominated by navies and pirates, and bounty hunters have no share?

When the Peng Yi of the power of yin and yang ripped apart the sky, countless top powerhouses looked sideways.

“Is the world’s No. 1 bounty hunter coming?”…

- Description from novelbuddy

In every story, there exists the hero and the villain, the protagonist and the antagonist.And like every story, the hero always wins, and always gets the girl.But what happens now that I died and became a villain in the last book I read? Not even a proper villain, but one that the protagonist kills in the early chapters.I don't want to die again, and I don't want that simp of a protagonist to walk all over me. Maybe I should just become a better villain.I've always admired the smart badass villains that took on the protagonist. Maybe I can be one of them, maybe I can win—the first villain to win against the hero.I'll rewrite this story into one where I become the greatest villain. Call me sick or evil, but it's my time to shine.

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.