The Rebirth Of An Ill-Fared Consort - Chapter 135 - Meeting Pei’er Again

What should you do when the person you like is no longer loyal? Find another one!

This time, in order to avoid trouble, Xiong Ye chose the weakest man in the tribe as his new companion.

In any case, he can afford him!

With his strength, he’ll definitely be able to let his own man eat meat every day instead of grass.

* *

Zhou Ji, the ‘weakest man’ who had just transmigrated over from the apocalypse and likes to indulge in eating ‘grass’: “…”

He’s not the same person anymore! He is clearly capable of killing the entire tribe by himself!

In the era of surging big pirates, pirates are evil? Is the navy justice?

The green pheasant seals the sea, the yellow monkey turns on the lights, and the red dog ignites!

Backed by the three major admirals of the navy, the captain of the Destiny Pirates, the legendary fisherman, the veteran card dog, and the new Pirate Emperor Cui Ze Fite said, of course—

Victory is justice!

- Description from novelbuddy

# pet beasts # impart cultivation

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.