Stealing The Protagonist’s Yandere Lovers - Chapter 9 Snatching Protagonist’s Chance

“Corpse Processing” is over, but the lord has a lot to write, so this is it.

A person is a mage.

Three people are a team.

A group of people is a territory.

A group of people is the rise of an era.

I, Karen Heise, want to lead an era. If you think you are young and self-motivated enough, send your resume here.

My address: Gold Flash Town, the center of the world.

- Description from novelbuddy

An accident let him have a special ability to turn back time up to 1 minute. When he said the wrong things in front of his leader, he was able to return back to 1 minute before to correct what he said. During jade stone gambling and there was no jade inside, he turns back time to pick another stone. When the woman he likes met an accident, he can return back to 1 minute before to save her…… A small fry’s rise through the ranks of the government service starts……

- Description from Novelupdates

Gawain is dead and was transmigrated, but there was a slight problem during the process.
After floating for more than a hundred thousand years on a different continent, he felt that he might need a body to become a complete transmigrator, but he did not expect that…

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.