My Friend and I Reincarnated Into a Tragedy Dating Game - Chapter 87: A Giant Fucking Hole

Mo Chou is the no.1 ranking female assassin in an illusive organization. One day on the way to the organization after completing a mission, she dies. She is shocked when reincarnates into her favorite novel but as a villainess who is the protagonist's step sister and dies a miserable death. She just wants to live a cushy and comfortable life so she decides to completely avoid the red flags aka the main characters and live like a saint (well a saint who is an assassin) But why does she keep stumbling into the main characters especially that infuriating villain and why the heck are they clinging onto her?

The young Xiao Yi bore a mysterious seal within him, yet due to his father and siblings’ injustice, he was sent to the remote Nanhuang and became a son-in-law to the Fang Family. On his wedding day, the seal inside Xiao Yi was unlocked, and from then on, he controlled the Eternal Celestial Tomb! Many of the strongest beings from all the heavens and worlds were buried within the Celestial Tomb, and Xiao Yi, who now commanded the tomb, began his life’s journey of gaining strength through grave-robbing! “You think you’re a martial arts genius? Let me dig up a Martial God’s grave and we’ll see!”“You consider yourself an alchemy expert? I’ll dig up a Medicine Saint’s grave and then we’ll talk!”“You’re the son of a divine emperor? I’ve got plenty of divine emperor graves here!”“You’re the number one scoundrel in the world? ... You win, I’m out!”

Transmigrating into a mystical and eerie world, Fan Wu gains a special ability: a system to allocate attribute points! By slaying demons and monsters, he earns points to enhance his own attributes!From then on, a peculiarly muscular Taoist priest appears in this supernatural world.Facing trembling demons and monsters, Fan Wu reveals a ferocious grin.“Your purity is too low!”“System, enhance my stats!”

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.