Marvel's Superman - Chapter 375 - 372 | I Will Protect Supermans Reputation.

I had thought that my life couldn’t get worse when I walked in on my fiancé cheating on me with my best friend. But after a series of unfortunate events, I opened my eyes in a world that I had only read about in a webnovel, the Erudian Empire, ruled under the domineering, bloody reign of Emperor Helio.

The worst part?

I’m not even the main character! Reborn as Winter Royberg de la Erudian, I am the pitiful side character who is discovered to be a royal bastard princess due to a certain physical trait only the imperial bloodline possesses. But I know the end of Winter’s story and the unwanted royal punching bag is framed as a witch and killed at age 16 on the guillotine due to the scheming of the cruel empress.

An aloof, murder happy father? Check.

Psycho half-sister? Check.

Meddlesome author who wants me to follow the script? Double check!

I don’t want to die an early death again, so I’m determined not to ever be discovered as a royal again. But before I know it, I’m trapped in a palace of blood and opulence playing tricky games of power, games I have no clue how to win. How will I survive to adulthood in the imperial palace and get my happily ever after? And am I really the only person who fell into this world?

She was the Spirit Master of the Tea Hill. He was the Head of the Kunlun. They met each other by chance in Jiangnan. With many twists and turns, they got married. Unexpectedly, there were plots in store for them. After the resurrection, he forgot her… But she had his child… To meet him again, she endured the torture of the naga poison; for the people of the Tea Hill, she chose to be a devil… But fate still pushed her to a path without a turning back… She killed demons and devils but was used by others… Finally, she had to stand opposite to him… For the happiness and benefits of the three realms, she was incarnated as the Creation Goddess… She was the Spirit Master of the Tea Hill, Jiang Wuyou…

[space + superpower+ farming + family + babies + slow pace + face slapping+world building]Elena has returned from a dark future where society has collapsed. Now, as the apocalypse approaches once more, she must confront the dangers alongside her husband, Ethan, and his courageous family. Together, they fight against natural disasters, mutant beasts, and an alien invasion that threatens to eradicate humanity.Join Elena and Ethan as they navigate the world full of uncertainty.********Excerpt:Triplets little show (2 years old)Ethan was strolling through the living room when he spotted his son climbing on the table.Ethan: “Leo, come down!”Baby 1, in the kitchen, turned around and sprinted to the sofa.Baby 1: “Daddy, eo!” [pointing at himself earnestly]Ethan: “Oops, my mistake! Leo’s here; Finn, get down now!”Baby 3 burst from the bedroom, rushing to the sofa.Baby 3: “Daddy!” [looking puzzled]Ethan: “Finn?”Baby 3: “Daddy, Finn!” [leaping into Ethan’s arms]Ethan felt his face heat up. Just then, Max darted down the table, throwing himself into Elena’s embrace.Baby 2: [giggling as Elena smothered her with kisses] “Mommy!”Elena shot Ethan a knowing look, her eyes saying, “You mixed them up again.”Ethan: [with a playful glint in his eye] “Can you blame me? They’re all adorable little lookalikes!”They both chuckle, watching the chaos unfold.

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.