The Enchantress Of Medicine, With The Heaven Defying Child, And The Black Belly Father - Chapter 3: Cutting out the Child

An anime otaku who has traveled to the world of full-time hunters, in order to live well, he can only keep getting stronger all the time, burying the strong one after another. Your withered life will be continued by me.

- Description from novelbuddy

Transported to a garbage-filled planet in the interstellar era, Ji You was so poor she was nearly digging the soil to eat, but... the soil was toxic and inedible... With no other choice, she had to lower her standards and pick up trash and sell scrap, such as these beautiful grass seeds that no one wanted. She gathered them and threaded them into beads to sell online.But once she posted them online, someone left a negative review: 'Selling grass seeds? Are you crazy for money?'Days later, this person was pounding the wall in regret: 'I beg you, sell me a grass seed bead, just one! Just one is enough.'Ji You coldly responded: 'Not selling!'And then there's the sparkling stones lying all over the streets that nobody wanted. She picked them up, polished them into bracelets, and sold them online.People lashed out with their words: 'Selling such broken rocks - have you never seen money?'Days later, those same people were crying and wailing: 'I was blind, I was so shortsighted, to overlook such beautiful and pretty stones. I beg you, sell me one.'Ji You spread her hands: 'Gone.'

A calculating merchant of noble birth lives a comfortable life managing his guild's business at the Imperial Academy—until lightning strikes him, leaving him with prophetic visions of a disastrous future. In these visions, he's expelled from his family, branded a traitor who aids demons, and worst of all, becomes a penniless beggar. When the supposed “protagonist” of these prophecies enrolls at the academy, he realizes his countdown to ruin has begun. Now he must use his foresight to rewrite a story where he's cast as a third-rate villain, all while navigating ancient dungeons, demonic threats, and the troublesome “hero” who might be the key to changing his fate.#MoneyIsEverything

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.