One Piece: My Crew is from Other World - Chapter 67: Official Crew Member, Hawkins!

The all-powerful boss is stripped of his identity again!One is handsome while the other is proud; the two-faced refined rascal versus a cynical girl with hidden identities.Everyone secretly jokei that Master Mo’s wife is an ignorant and incompetent little tyrant.Bad at her studies? Lu Mian emergei as the top student for science at her college entrance examination.No talent? Lu Mian shows everyone how competent she is at multitasking by playing the piano with one hand, and painting with the other during a live performance.A prodigal? She makes a small fortune in just two days with her limited knowledge.Boxing, Go chess, appraising treasures, car racing… Bring it on! She can do them all.The soft-spoken Xiao Qimo adjusts his glasses with pride. “Who else has something to say?”One of his subordinates raises his hand cautiously. “Master Mo, your wife seems to be the one who single-handedly destroyed the illegal laboratory.”Xiao Qimo looks at his wife who is quietly practicing calligraphy. “That’s impossible!”It isn’t until…During the general meeting for the International Elite Organization, both Xiao Qimo and Lu Mian wear a mask. They take the stage and succeed as the organization’s Chief and Deputy Chief, respectively.The Deputy Chief beside me looks like my wife. This is Xiao Qimo’s thought.The Chief looks like someone I know. Lu Mian is thinking the same thing, too.Soon, the newly appointed Chief is seen blocking his deputy at the ladies’ room.What happens when two strong and uncorrupted individuals fall for each other?

The night is dark and the wind is high, and the reality is killed.

Dear players, welcome to the holographic killing game “Fantasy”.

This game is not easy, don’t flirt with girls, don’t make friends, focus on hurting each other.

【Book Friends Group: 471036516】

- Description from novelbuddy

A festive day, a week have the kingdom of Polestin celebrated for their victory with the crimson general leading their army.The soldiers who served have been guaranteed a spot inside a local bar of the capital city.Clank!“The Crimson General despite being a woman is a talented warrior! Three cheers for the general!”“That woman saved me when I needed it! All hail the general!”“She's like a sister to all the soldier! All hail our general!”Every warrior kept on drinking as the news reached them that the war with their neighboring kingdom was over, the ruler raised their white flag as they asked for mercy- being beneath the crimson general.“General! Come drink with us!”“...”The Crimson General, for how she got her name is because of her crimson hair that became the trademark of her legendary name already spreading across the many kingdoms.“I don't drink.” she denies the invitation her comrades and just sat down on the table watching the others enjoy themselves.“Enjoy, general! You might even find a man here that suits to your liking! You know... your type I think...! The general would love a soft-spoken man!”“...No.”“Hah! That's a shame! In any case I heard that you'll be receiving a reward for helping win the war!”“A reward... I wonder what could it be.”...The reward:“You can choose any of my children to marry you. I have the finest royal princes for you to choose. That is my reward.” The King motions to his left side showing his sons who smiles, sitting in their throne meeting her gaze..“Eh?”“My liege, forgive me but this is...”“Are my children not good enough for you? General, I applaud your accomplishment. Isn't marrying into the royal family a good enough reward for the general?” The King asked the general who swallowed the lump in her throat looking at the princes in display.“I choose-!”Everyone stopped and waiting for the girl to continue.“I choose the princess instead!”

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.