Daddy Fantasy World Restaurant - Chapter 2450 - You Get One More Strike

Strength.... That's all that matters in the end.

After being abandoned by his own family, and shunned for having no mana in a world dominated by magic, ex-prince Arvell Relas Vispia was forced to live on the streets with whatever meagre money he had left.

However, fate had something else in store for Arvell.

After meeting the spirit inhabiting his amulet, Arvell gets reborn as a Nephilim.

A being that has the powers of a god.

Time, Space, Life, Death.

All submitted to the authority of a Nephilim.

Betrayed by those he once called family, Arvell swore to get revenge.

Revenge on all those that mocked him and shunned him as a 'failure.'

Revenge on those who betrayed him without a second thought.

This is a tale of how a young prince shunned by the world as a 'failure' rises and ascends to the pinnacle of strength.

A Speedster in a Fantasy World

Fifty years ago, the world changed forever when Earth was mysteriously connected to the Primordial World, a reality that operates like a game.This world can only be entered by Awakeners—people who have awakened with special powers. However, out of fifteen billion humans, only one million have this privilege.Enzo, a poor young man with no connection to the Primordial World, should have had no chance of becoming an Awakener.However, against all odds, he awakens... and more than that, he gains an innate skill unheard of before—the ability to make skills with only his imagination.In a world where power determines everything, how will a nameless young man carve his own path?

What happens when, in the midst of struggling to keep up with life, you suddenly discover that you were a princess in a past life? Now, you're just a waitress with a drunken mother and a pile of bills to pay. But deep down, you know one thing: you’ll find the stupid jerk responsible for ending your royal life, no matter what it takes.Alexia POV:Then there are the spoiled, narcissistic rich jerks who think their daddy's car gives them a free pass to treat women like objects. Not today, Satan. These guys are like walking perfume ads with egos bigger than their bank accounts. I swear, they should just marry themselves—they're clearly their own type.When one of those jerks lands at my table, I can smell the entitlement from a mile away. I don't even wait for the inevitable sleazy pickup line or the “accidental” brush of their hand against mine. Nope. I pawn them off on one of the other waiters faster than you can say “unpaid rent.”