Catastrophe Card King - Chapter 961 - 296: Clearing the Stage (Seeking Monthly Pass)_4

Kain, a young teenager, accidentally lost in a Dungeon and awakened a special system. A system that allows him to continuously return to level 0, using his level to add and increase his skill points. From there, Kain began his journey to find the truth of this world, and when he took off that mask, what he saw was...

“Gu Hangshen! Your sister stole my man, and you helped her do it! Your whole family is rotten!”“Whatever my sister owes you, I'll compensate you.”“And what will you compensate me with?”“Me.”“...”Later, he not only gave himself up as compensation, but he also came with a clingy little bundle of joy...

(Women disguised as men) Strong women and men with black bellies.

‘He’ is a rare ‘male god’ who is handsome, wealthy and has no gossip. And he is an ordinary man who hits a wall when he gets along with a man and a woman.

A contract bound the two tightly together. Facing the indifferent ‘him’, he was always cautious, fearing that ‘he’ would fall in love with his prosperous appearance.

Isn’t the legendary ‘he’ aloof and unfeminine? It doesn’t matter, take the initiative to bring him. When the rare ‘male god’ identity is revealed, he not only has to face female love rivals, but also a large wave of male love rivals ahead. ‘What should I do if my daughter-in-law is too handsome? ’ ‘Being coquettish, being cute, and rolling around’

“Mother~Mother…” A certain neglected baby was hanging on his lap with an aggrieved expression on his face. As soon as the words came out, a chestnut fell on the baby’s head, “How many times have I said that I am your father and that is your mother?”

- Description from novelbuddy

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.