Past Life Returner - Chapter 520

Anger. Pain. Desolation.

Traveling through the world of Detective Conan, Chi Feichi was sent to the hospital.

Tuesday.

Doctor: “What day is tomorrow?”

Chi Feichi: “Wednesday.”

Doctor: “Cough, tomorrow is Friday.”

Chi Feichi: “…”

August 21.

Doctor: “What day will it be tomorrow?”

Chi Feichi: “August 22nd.”

Doctor: “Cough, tomorrow is January 1st.”

Chi Feichi: “…”

When everyone thinks that the chaotic time is correct, and one of them cannot correctly identify and integrate into it, then this person is an outlier, a patient!

Once admitted to the hospital, it is as deep as the sea, and it is impossible to recover in this life.

Chi Feichi took a deep breath: “Old! Son! No! Do it!”

- Description from novelbuddy

Mr. Fu of Harbor City positions himself with one foot in Harbor City and the other in Macau City, capable of manipulating situations with just his hands.Harbor City's gossip tabloids exposed that Mr. Fu has a secret wife.Known for his romantic involvements, Mr. Fu has liaisons with beauty pageant winners, models, and socialites.The entire Harbor City jokes about how his wife would be kicked out of the Fu family by any means necessary.In the first year, an unprecedented snowfall in June took over Harbor City, dubbed by the press as a grand gesture from the boss to make his wife smile.The second year, the press captured Mr. Fu arguing with his wife in the streets looking upset. People speculated their relationship was nearing its end. However, the next day, he was seen clinging to his wife's legs, crying, fussing, and showing affection.The third year, rumors were rampant that Mr. Fu and his wife had been living separately for six months, and a divorce was imminent.Soon after, a major announcement from the Fu family shocked the city.Mr. Fu was delighted by the birth of a precious son.While everyone congratulated him, Mr. Fu's expression was gloomy: not having embraced one for three years, he realized he was duped!

The protracted ’witch hunting’ had faded into silence with the end of the Seven Years’ War, and the mysteries of the East Coast had begun to conceal themselves, yet gunpowder was on a rapid rise. Mo Qishang, who should have been utterly confounded, stood at the crossroads of destiny in the name of Arthur. He stared in astonishment at the charging knights, the wizards atop the high towers, and the bizarre wilderness. He felt the sharpness of the longsword and the recoil of the firearm, both clear and unfamiliar. At last, he excitedly shook his robe and, with a smile on his face, said— “Do not believe what I say, for to believe is to exist!”