MTL - Last Building on Earth - Chapter 293 imitator

Shen Hua, the daughter of the Shen family that ran an embroidery business in Fengzhou, was pampered since she was a child. She had a pretty face and smooth, fair skin. Unfortunately, her body was weak, and she'd run out of breath after walking merely a few steps. She didn't have very long to live.The Shen family gradually faced its downfall, and her wedding was delayed again and again.Cui Yun, the eldest son of the Cui family, was a noble and stern man. He was entrusted to look after Shen Hua. Why not just marry her? He thought.Since Shen Hua reincarnated, she had focused all her attention on the embroidery business. She hoped to change her life and regain her former glory.When she heard about Cui Yun's decision to marry her, she fainted on the spot.After waking up, she turned him down with tears in her eyes. “I don't have very long to live. I don't want to waste your time.”Cui Yun was very considerate. “It's not a big deal. I know you feel touched, but there's no need to cry. Since you already depend on the Cui family, you might as well just become part of us. After you die from your sickness, I'll even hold a grand funeral for you.”Shen Hua felt hopeless. But I'm only pretending to be sick!***Cui Yun had many younger female cousins.Many of them had confessed their feelings for him, but he turned all of them down nonchalantly.“It's getting late. Please look after yourself.”Shen Hua had never met such a clueless man when it came to romance.One night, while she was on her way home, she took a shortcut and passed by the Cui family's courtyard. Cui Yun stopped her.He was standing near the entrance, and his sleeves danced to the wind.“It's cold outside. Would you like to come in and stay for a while?”

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.

The middle boss of the AAA-class game produced by the company. The villain who dies 999 times out of 1,000 times. Deculein.That person, was me now.“You’re going to die on almost every route.”Deculein, like all villains, inevitably dies.[First and foremost survival goal: Be what the game requires you to be]I’ll have to survive even if it means twisting my fate if I am destined to die.