My Mother-in-Law is Reborn [Seventies] - Chapter 227

I awoke as Violet, a familiar villainess trapped in a shady corporate research lab. Screw this! With my unstoppable cloning technique, I’m getting out of here and going to the Academy to live my own life!

An internet troll who wanted attention, the reader criticized his favorite web novel, saying: “The protagonist is dumb and the author is stupid.”

Author: “… Got it.”

Unfortunately for him, the author actually listened to his (troll) feedback. The formerly lighthearted tale of a cute harem master suddenly became super dark and edgy. The reader could only helplessly look on as the the protagonist was abused and betrayed, finally embarking on the road to becoming completely evil. Everything was a mess!

After that the reader transmigrated into a strange world. How come the person in front of him looks like the protagonist (evil undead version)? Just what is going on?!

Note: Du Zhe (读者 meaning Reader) and Du Ze (杜泽 the character’s name) sound almost the same

- Description from Novelupdates

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.