Dominate the Super Bowl - Chapter 903 - 902 Miscellaneous Personnel

Ren Zhouyuan, who loves to study Chinese culture since childhood, has never imagined that his own life would one day be subverted by a foreigner.

Not only do these foreign devils not love the Chinese, but they also scoff at him, looking at his eyes like watching a fool.

After getting drunk, Ren Zhouyuan is for no reason pregnant with a ball, and actually gave birth to a child as a man. This kid is blonde; almost do not have to verify who he is from the “handwriting.”

Ren Zhouyuan does not want to make that arrogant foreigner part of his life, but after fate tied them tightly together again, he found that there was a big difference between this man and the arrogant fighting nationality he imagined.

Leonid: Honey, what does ” Jijiwai Wai*” mean?
Ren Zhouyuan: Refers to people like you
Leonid: But I’m not chirping ah …

- Description from Novelupdates

I'll take care of it. The uncle of her husband on their wedding night whispered viciously in her ear. In front of a frightening Steel Blooded Business Demon, he was the one who was crazy for favoring his wife.

He had begged her to pave the way for her so that she could do whatever she wanted. If not, he would pamper her to the heavens. Just because he glanced at the clothes, he directly monopolized the entire shopping mall under her name. He said, As long as you want it, I want it!

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.

[Unique Ability: Curse of Fear – Causes extreme stress and fear to any living creature within a 50m radius.]…But why am I okay?