The Synthesis Wizard - Chapter 317:Core of the Law

A villainess known by all as a wicked woman who has done all sorts of evil deeds—Ducal Lady Violet.
She regained her memories of her previous life after she fell into a lake and almost died.
The very moment she woke up, she immediately visited her father, Duke Everett, and asked one thing.

“Please confine me to the annex.”

And so, she imprisoned herself there.
Now that Violet was secluded away from the world’s criticism and reproach,
She immersed herself in her previous life’s memories and started painting them.

“What the hell are you up to this time?”

Everyone was suspicious of just what she might be scheming.
However, the misunderstandings surrounding her gradually got resolved one at a time…

Kyle woke up in a land of fantasy and magitech. The usual 'I died and woke up' bullshit, skip all that.

Except he used to be a crime lord, and society here is missing that extra kick.

The celestial celestial beings who lived for more than 100,000 years were born and reborn in a small monk in a human world.
His motto: “It’s not as good as a medicinal medicine for ten years of hard work.” “Even if you practice a copper-iron bone, it’s not enough for my soldier’s attack.”

- Description from Novelupdates

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.