She Rebuilt Her Fallen Country With Storage Space - Chapter 198: A Bowl of Grass Jelly, Cool and Soothing

The mid-level boss of my company’s AAA-game.

[Gunfight + case-solving reasoning + decisive killing]

“I’ve been black and white, and you said I was an undercover agent???”

When Dean woke up, he opened his eyes and saw the scene where the robbers were sharing the spoils.

Because of the confusion of the original owner’s memory, Dean mistakenly thought that he was a real robber, so he chose to eat black and white, and emptied the magazine with an American-style Juhe.

Just when he was about to take the money and leave.

A blond beauty came to the door: “Dean is an intern police officer. The bank in the town was robbed. I ordered you to investigate the suspect. You don’t want to fail your internship, do you?”

It turns out that I am an undercover agent!

Dean is numb…

- Description from novelbuddy

In the world of demons and demons, a hundred ghosts travel at night.Qin Feng, who accidentally crossed over, came to this troubled world with no lofty ambitions.He only wanted to protect himself and enjoy the rest of his life safely.But the sky does not fulfill people’s wishes, excellent men are so outstanding everywhere.The ancestor made a marriage contract, and the talented young lady of the Liu family became a wife.

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.