Special Agent Rebirth: The Omnipotent Goddess of Quick Transmigration - Chapter 1183: Real Life International Training Camp Coach Ye!_2

Sheng MuMu was transmigrated into a novel.

While others transmigrate to become celebrities, she ends up becoming a stepmother to a 17-year-old young master of a prestigious family?!

She wants to escape! But wait, what’s this? Pretending to be his wife for a monthly allowance of 500,000 in pocket money that can be freely spent on her card? Suddenly she doesn’t mind so much!

Everyone guesses: “She’s just a stepmother, how much could he really care for her? President Qi just brought a woman home to take care of his son.”

On the day of the banquet, surrounded by the media, Sheng MuMu hooks her arm around the man’s neck and sweetly calls him: “Dear~”

The man’s eyes darken as he pulls her slender waist closer, naturally dispelling the rumors.

Then people say: “She’s just a brainless trophy wife, just a pretty face.”

Sheng MuMu: “You dare call this 700-scoring top-scoring beauty from the city just a trophy wife?”

She opens a flower shop, becoming an internet sensation with people lining up to take photos, earning pots full of money; she starts a brand, appearing on the cover of financial magazines’ annual rankings.

And after that…

Tsundere stepson: “Better than a real mother.”

Vicious mother-in-law: “Daughter-in-law, when are you taking me square dancing?”

Until one night, Sheng MuMu’s earlobes blushing as she pushes away the man pinning her against the wall.

“President Qi, our agreement is just a contract marriage. ”

The man’s eyes narrow as he loosens his tie and leans down:

“The agreement? I tore that up long ago.”

Sheng MuMu: “You…mmmph”

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.

She was once the all-commanding queen of business, but when she woke up once more, she found herself disguised as the second young master of the Prime Minister’s residence!

Warning contains-Incest/Ntr/ Heavy NetorareA Boy struggles with the problems of being raised in a family full of lewd older women.