Detective Ghost Empress - Chapter 475: Take responsibility

50,000 years ago, Hell was destroyed because of too much Foul from the resentment of the souls that later turned to Soul Eaters and devoured everything in their wake, leaving nothing of Hell. The gods above in Heaven, in order to take care of the newly-died souls, created the Afterlife Department comprised of grim reapers.

Huo Ling was delivering food that day when he met Yi Bing and the guy gave him a warning. When he arrived to the customer's unit, he was killed.

Huo Ling: you set up a death flag for me!

Yi Bing: I'm a grim reaper. I'm the flag myself. Let me help you solve the mystery of your death.

Huo Ling: your sister!

Alternative title: The Different Ways I Died at 23

Update: daily

Seventeenth-line actor Liang Xiao debuted for five years, and he is not tepid.
Because he was photographed frequently haunting the villa of the president of Star Crown Pictures, he became famous overnight on the Internet.

In the villa’s bedroom, Liang Xiao washed up and lay down on the pillow, concentrating on playing games with his mobile phone.

“President, are you ready to bite? I’ll go off work after you bite.”
2.
As the president of Star Crown Pictures, Huo Lan has a secret.
He is a special mutant alpha. Only by regularly marking matching omegas can the pheromone remain stable and not get out of control, otherwise it will be life-threatening.
President Huo didn’t look like O, so on the first day we met, he pushed the bank card and the contract to Liang Xiao indifferently: “Everyone takes what they need, don’t think about what they shouldn’t think about.”
Liang Xiao was bitten diligently, took money steadily, and played games with peace of mind.
Until he became a hit in the big production invested by Star Crown Pictures.
In the face of the overwhelming amount of black materials, Liang Xiao ran home and found out the contract, ready to ask the president to help him clarify the truth.
Huo Lan’s eyes darkened, he took over the contract, scrambled into a ball in front of countless cameras and microphones, and pulled the person back to his side.
“Don’t panic.” Liang Xiao was pinched by the waist and pressed against the wall. He calmly hugged Mr. Huo, who buried his face in his neck, and turned to his manager calmly, “He wants to clear my innocence now.”
3.
The broker is crazy.
[Muffled and deserted President Attack x Shattered Mouth Sand Sculpture Health Suffering]
[abo has no children, let go of the little sweet biscuits easily]
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Content tags: Fantasy space, wealthy family, entertainment circle, sweet text
Search keywords: protagonist: Liang Xiao; Huo Lan ┃ supporting role: agent; housekeeper ┃ others:
One sentence introduction: Mr. Huo, how are you?

- Description from novelbuddy

Dying in a tragic accident Marcus Ferrous gets transferred to a fantasy world of monsters and magic, except when he arrives contrary to what he expected he is now level one and a ghost. Left with nothing on a strange new world, Marcus will struggle with everything he has on his journey to get stronger and uncover the secrets of his new world.

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.