What If I Can't Die? - Chapter 516 - Ten Thousand Years (1)

I reincarnated into a fantasy world. Since I somehow got born again, I resolved myself to live diligently once more. But, putting that aside, my entire village burning up and disappearing when I’m 8-year old f*cking crossed the line. F*cking shit-f*cking crossed the line!

“Shi Xi: This is so exhausting. I’m going to retire from showbiz, and go home to inherit my family fortune.

Netizens: How can a fake rich daughter inherit a family’s fortune?

After waking up, Shi Xi clenched her fist. “I must work hard. I will not inherit the family fortune!”

After transmigrating as a fake young lady who would have a tragic end, Shi Xi wanted to stay away from the original script to save her life. She decided not to follow the development where she would inherit the family fortune, fight for the male lead, and be thrown into the river to feed the fishes! And so, Shi Xi gave up on the family fortune, and started overcoming challenges in the entertainment industry!

However, everything was going swimmingly for her in the entertainment industry, so why did everyone assume that she was leading a tragic and aggrieved life?

Her wealthy parents: Our dear daughter, hurry up and come home to inherit the family fortune.

Her brother with a sister complex: With your brains, you’re not suited to stay in the entertainment industry. Just come home and live a good life until you die. I’ll take care of you.

Her aloof older sister, aka the female lead: Only I can bully my sister.

The domineering male lead, aka her sister’s fiancé: I’ll always be by your side.

Shi Xi backed away, screaming on the inside, ‘Don’t come near me, main characters!’

A gentle two-faced bigshot villain stopped her. His spoke gently with a voice that allowed no room for rejection, saying, “Are you staying away from them because you want to be with me?”

[One-on-one showbiz + Group pampering + Sweet love + Bigshot villain + Real and fake rich young lady]

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.

When the night came, there was a twittering sound in his ears, and the monster in the shadow began to move restlessly. Jason’s hungry stomach began to roar, and he couldn’t help swallowing saliva. Hunger is the best spur.