I Became a Magical Cheat Loli Witch - Chapter 62Vol 3 : 23 year old Chise, 27 year old Teto and 10 year old Selene

He had once obtained a high levelled medical knowledge, martial arts and a Special Ability which allowed him to see through the other party's thoughts. With this, the Young Master Han was able to roam the society, shopping malls, medicine courts, and government officials.

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She thought she was dead but she woke up inside a novel – to an extra who will die a year later.Not wanting to die like this, Alexa decided to tame the male protagonist in the form of a dog. Two years from now, the male lead will return to his human form. In the meantime, she was thinking of leaving the Grand Duchy after receiving the right pay for doing them a favour.The problem is that when the male lead returns to his human form, he forgot all his memories.“You have to remember me, okay? There’s no point in looking so cute. Promise me!”She told him many times because she didn’t want to mistakenly die by the male lead’s hands, who became a villain.But,“You told me to remember, so I remembered everything. Alexa.”Ysildus unbuttoned his jacket.“If there’s no other way to return that favour then I have to pay it with my body.”A cute puppy that grew up into a weird wolf.Damn, what did I raise?

In every story, there exists the hero and the villain, the protagonist and the antagonist.And like every story, the hero always wins, and always gets the girl.But what happens now that I died and became a villain in the last book I read? Not even a proper villain, but one that the protagonist kills in the early chapters.I don't want to die again, and I don't want that simp of a protagonist to walk all over me. Maybe I should just become a better villain.I've always admired the smart badass villains that took on the protagonist. Maybe I can be one of them, maybe I can win—the first villain to win against the hero.I'll rewrite this story into one where I become the greatest villain. Call me sick or evil, but it's my time to shine.

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.