MTL - 94 Diagon Alley - Chapter 157 Festival

“No one likes us, it doesn't matter!”“It doesn't matter if everyone likes us!”Aldridge, possessed by time and space, never imagined that one day he would become the boss of the notorious Millwall in England.The Edwards family gave Ferguson seven years to finally recreate the dynasty of the Busby Boys.After Graham's glory, the arsenal was looking for the next Chapman. The professor who was fired for the first time left for Japan, always waiting for the call from Europe.Liverpool, which has won the Champions League four times in seven years, still lives in the shadow of Manchester United.White Hart Lane is gradually becoming ordinary, Stamford Bridge is dimly blue, Jin Yuan's violent Ben challenges the throne, Keegan trains the gorgeous magpie to soar to the sky!In the summer of 1994, the Millwall Youth Army, led by young coach Aldridge, was about to rewrite the history of a hundred years without a championship.That dark blue of a mad lion is determined to sweep Europe...

Anna Jones, an Australian travelled with her fiancé Lu Jinhu to marry in his home country, only to find out that she has been duped by him and robbed of everything that she owns. A quirk of fate allows her to marry CEO Hou Yi, who was meant to on the same day marry his finance Yang Lin, who in fact married Lu Jinhu. Marriage for Anna, started as a plan to gain some measure of revenge on Lu Jinhu, and for Hou Yi to prevent Lu Jinhu from obtaining the family company however fate had something different in store for them. Not only did they achieve their initially goals, but their relationship turned into something else, that could last a lifetime despite the cultural differences and the trouble Lu Jinhu and Yang Lin caused them.

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.

“Master, the people from the Zhuang family have come to cancel the engagement.”

“My fiancé whose beauty was said to be capable of causing the downfall of a city, finally decided to throw me away?”

“I think so.”

“I want to see this legendary beauty, and confirm whether this bastard is as really great as people said to have no flaws in all 360 degree, a picturesque appearance however you see him; does he need me to help him open the corner of his eyes (Epicanthoplasty) or reshape his chin (Genioplasty)?”

“Actually, he didn’t come.”

“He didn’t? He didn’t even come to cancel the engagement? What a wicked b***h.”

“He definitely will get karma.”

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