Spy Mage System - Chapter 165

Zhang Beichen downloaded a game called “The Empress of the Warring States Period”. He needs to play the role of a famous minister to help his monarch rule the world and become emperor.

He thought it was an ordinary game. In the game, Zhang Beichen tried his best to make friends with the empress, help her unify the seven kingdoms, and achieve different endings.

Until he woke up, Zhang Beichen discovered that he had actually come to the world in the game, and the magnificent empress in the game was standing in front of him!

The empress looked at Zhang Beichen with a cold and glamorous face, and thought: “He is the servant in the Sims who has made great contributions to me, but is rebellious and wants to marry me?”

- Description from novelbuddy

Shen Dongqing is a powerful, thousand-year-old ghost. He had just possessed a body and hadn’t even relaxed for two days yet when he was pulled into a white, parallel world.

On the first day of the Infinite Nightmare Game:
Other players tremble, crying and wailing wanting to go home.
Shen Dongqing eats, sleeps, and plays ‘Fight the Landlord’ (card game).

The second day:
Other players are chased endlessly by ghosts, crying loudly ‘Save me!’
Shen Dongqing eats, sleeps, and plays ‘Fight the Landlord’.

The third day.
Shen Dongqing……
The ghosts finally set their sights on this lazy player. The other players watch on in glee. As a result, who knew that this slim and pale youth would stand up and easily dispatched the ghosts with his bare hands.

Other ghosts: Can’t afford to disrupt this elder. Let’s go, let’s go.

- Description from Novelupdates

Han Dong works as an extra as well as a fortuneteller who foretells marriage fortunes extremely accurately. One day, he accidentally foretells his own fortune and discovers that he and a Mr. Golden will become “a match predestined by fate”. As a straight man, he doesn’t hesitate to ruin his image in front of Mr. Golden — acting as a fool, a despicable man, making himself as annoying as possible because he is afraid that the other man will take a liking to him.

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.