The prince longs for me every night after mastering thought-reading - Chapter 42 - 41 Delivering a Message for Your Highness (First Update)

The whole world mutated. Mysterious resurrections happened in real life. The Tribulation descended.

As Orson read the novel written by the girlfriend who had left him, he gently remarked on how terrible the story was. But then, noticing a foul smell coming from the kitchen, he went to investigate. He realized there was some kind of gas leak. Already furious about being dumped, Orson became even angrier at the state of his kitchen, and in his rage, he hit the light switch with a powerful punch. Naturally, the explosion that followed killed him instantly, and Orson passed into the afterlife.After spending some time in limbo, he found himself reincarnated in an unfamiliar world. However, he quickly realized he had been reborn inside the cliché-filled novel written by his ex-girlfriend. As if that wasn’t enough, he had ended up in the body of Neonidas, a useless duke who was also the fiancé of the story's villainess.____There may be a bit too much swearing and slang in the first chapters, but it gets less afterwards.There will be no yuri, bl or ntr in Neonidas(MC) harem

Zhangsun Zijun and Yi Xichen are the protagonists of the novel “Record of Nine Thousand Vicissitudes.” One is solid and reserved; the other is free-spirited and uninhibited. As fellow disciples under the same master who grew up together, the two have a deep friendship that was strengthened by their numerous life and death adventures together.

However, in a popular yaoi fanfiction, the personalities of these two characters is completely OOC. Zhangsun Zijun turned into an insanely jealous, insatiable s*x addict madly in love with his wife Yi Xichen. Yi Xichen turned into a sweet, delicate little angel. Their daily life was full of kinky bedroom activities…

Suddenly, the Zhangsun Zijun character from the fanfiction was transported into the world of the original novel.

- 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.