God of Slaughter - Chapter 29: Eating Human Flesh

“Rebirth in the 90s: The Counterattack of the Delicate Wife” is now available, please support it, dear old and new readers.Bai Xiao was reborn in 1985, back to when she was 18 years old during the release of the college entrance examination results. Her grandmother and uncle, afraid she would break free from their control, had hidden her university admission notice. Nobody would dream of stopping her from attending university this time. In her past life, her soldier brother and married sister protected her; this life, she would protect them.Chen Shimei's trash father, stepmother, and stepsister can all step aside, I don't know you.When she resolutely jumped into the river, that person... this isn't murder, sister is reclaiming her special ability from her past life.A certain man: Whether it's suicide or murder doesn't matter, you owe me a life-saving debt. Marry me in return!

In his previous life, Tang Shi was a cannon fodder. For a jerk, he even turned down a blind date his father arranged for him, but finally died in the hands of his lover and half-blooded elder brother.

Before he died, his elder brother told him that the one that always went against him, teased him and used him as a bait was the one who truly loved him, also that blind date his father had arranged for him—Yan Xu.

Feeling regretful?

What would have happened if he hadn’t made that kind of choice from the very beginning?

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.