Pregnant with Twins: Poison Doctor Consort is Too Hard to Please - Chapter 41 - : Hey, Little Sister, What are You up to?

Choi Sunwoo’s life takes a dramatic turn when he wakes up as a character in the very novel that enthralled him for weeks. Working as a publishing company PD for five years, Sunwoo is no stranger to dramatic twists, but nothing prepares him for this surreal twist of fate. Now pregnant and trapped in a cursed narrative, he becomes an integral part of the story he once read. Sunwoo’s character, an ambitious Omega, daringly infiltrates the secretariat under the guise of a Beta, all to be near the enigmatic and dominant Alpha, Kang Jinwook. His bold plan spirals out of control, leading to a scandalous pregnancy and a botched blackmail scheme. As he attempts to extricate himself from this tangled web by resigning, he finds himself the focus of Jinwook’s intense and obsessive desires. Will he outwit Jinwook and break free from the novel’s grip, or will he be forever ensnared in its pages?

For every God out there, there are about thousand shitty games in this world.

Bugs, Errors, Texture Collapses, Inconsistent Scenarios…… Those are the things that fill the players around the world with grief and remorse.

A certain boy who loves such shitty games decides to challenge a Godly game recognized by the general public for a change.

As a result, both the gaming world and the real world in which the boy is revolving begin to change. Still, the specs of the Godly game still fills the boy’s heart with dread.

「Are Encounter Rates like that really a common sense in Godly Games……?」

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.

The dead cannot speak.

It means the living can create any story they want.

Inheritance, honor and wealth can be taken away by lies.

However, what happens when a person, who was presumed to be dead, returns alive?