PREVIEW

... hands shaking as I fumble with the zipper of my dress. The fabric is soft and silky, just as beautiful as the day I bought it. It's the nicest thing I've ever worn, but I feel like an impostor in it.

I twist and turn just a little, enjoying the feel of my skirt swirling around my legs. As a child, I remember twirling just like this, wishing my dresses would spin like they do for Disney princesses. The little girl in me is satisfied with what she sees in the mirror, while the older me, t ...

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Originally, the question Tang Xian was thinking about was whether he should be a hero for a second among this group of destructive bosses, or continue to pretend to be a boss.

Later he found out that if you pretend to be fake, it becomes real.

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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.

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