Tokyo landlord: why is the panties of the lady next door in my house?! - Chapter 463 - 280 Mr. Haruka, Aren’t You Going to Catch a Cold?

Lin Xing has the ability to turn back time.Whenever he faces a life-threatening danger, he would return to the past.He falls to his death, and returns 5 seconds earlier.He is killed by a falling object, and returns 1 minute earlier.He is struck down by a dump truck, and returns 20 minutes earlier.Then one day... he finds himself having returned to one year ago.

WSA 2025 Entry—Updates on Weekdays#wsa #wsa2025Demon Kings.The Strongest Demons who stand at the peak of the Demon race’s hierarchy.Each one of them wields such overwhelming power that they sit at the top of the Universe’s food chain; among its strongest beings.When the reborn Xaren laid eyes upon the visage of one of these Demon Kings, all he could feel was endless admiration towards the immense power displayed.At that moment, he gained a goal to strive for in this second life of his.He was originally just living to survive, but now, he was living for something else.The path ahead was going to be rocky, riddled with trials, and standing in his way forward would be the many horrors that lurked in the corners of the Universe.But he’s not gonna let that stop him.After all, he’s Gonna Be a Demon King![Check out my other stories from my profile: Godslayer’s Legend, Reincarnated Hero System & Beyond the Bloodline]

What do you do when your brother dies because of some entitled assholes? You go undercover.My real name? Clare. But at school, I’m Clause—just another guy blending in. Disguised. Watching. Yes, a boy. No, it's not an all-boys school—I'm just deep undercover, hunting down the bastard responsible for my brother’s suicide. Nobody—and I mean nobody—messes with my precious brother and gets away with it. They better pray I never find them, because when I do? Death will be a mercy, and trust me—I don’t do mercy.And as for the egotistical Alpha and the narcissistic Vampire Prince? They can go fuck themselves. I don’t do mates, I don’t do claiming, and I sure as hell don’t do 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.