I Got Rich in Period Fiction - Chapter 15 - : It’s Free!

Planets died, gods fell.After the Dharma Realm collapsed, humanity lost all its protectors.Now.“Anomaly” and “Catastrophe” began to invade the Human World.As the Dark Age approached, a soul from Blue Star transcended and arrived...

I transmigrated into the gacha game I abandoned for 10 years.But, the state of the heroes I raised is strange.

Ling Zhen transmigrated as a female cannon-fodder in a dog blood novel.

The female partner had plastic surgery done for the novel’s male lead, and then divorced her husband. The ex-husband blackened in the later stages of her life, becoming a big villain in the novel.

And she, for betraying her husband, and angering the only relative he had, was finally retaliated by the blacked-out boss, and is killed in a mental hospital. Orz

Fortunately! She transmigrated just in time and the big guy hasn’t turned black yet.

So Ling Zhen turned into a healing little fairy, sang sweet songs and danced fairy dances, touched her head and cooked lovingly.

Appease his violent mood, change his paranoid thoughts, reform his antisocial behavior – at last! Transformed a black bomb into a good young man with a docile temperament and a positive attitude!

The potential safety hazard was completely eliminated, and Ling Zhen finally dared to leave with confidence, so she took out the divorce letter that year.

The next second, heaven and earth changed color, and the superficially good villain will be suddenly! instantly! blackened!

Ling Zhen was so frightened that she cried, “A-Anything else? QAQ”

Wei Xi suppressed his emotions disguising them with a smile, while the underneath of his eyes filled with real madness: “Yes, there is.”

Stay with me forever and don’t run away.

—————

Wei Xi is sick. He has always known of the misery, paranoia, and possessiveness in his bones.

His little fairy thought she had cured him.

Actually…not really.

After possessing her, his sickness, worsened.

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.