Firebrand - Chapter 156: Bear Trap

In this world, being a farmer is a noble profession.

To obtain the Zhang Xiaofan super ability, have no matter all sorts of grass, raise flower, you ‘ll became one big guy unconsciously.

At a dying grass, give it 60 points of life, and will live.

Villain holding a 100 years of Lingcao in front of Zhang Xiaofan show off in an ostentatious manner, conveniently give it a year. As a result of the tragedy, it degenerates into a ten rank grass, the villain be crying faint in the toilet.

- Description from Novelupdates

A comic book enthusiast gets hit with a truck and is reborn in an Alternate Marvel Comic/Movie/Series Verse with a cheat as Peter Parker!Currently in the 2nd Arc: Shattered Webs. Romance has been introduced. Won't be rushed/be sex based. For a change, we will have a female lead with ability to think.#noharem #nopatreon #nottranslationBtw, support this extremely awesome but humble author by sparing him some power stones!

In a world where fate is scripted and power determines survival, Arthur Nightingale was never meant to shine.When he awakens in the world of Saga of the Divine Swordsman, he isn’t the destined hero, the villain, or even a major side character—he’s an extra. A nobody. A mere background figure in the shadow of Lucifer Windward, the overpowered protagonist who will one day ascend beyond gods.But Arthur knows the truth.The world he now inhabits is doomed. The plot is destined for a catastrophic downfall, and the so-called “geniuses” will not be enough to stop the tide of destruction. Armed with knowledge of future events and his own will to defy fate, Arthur refuses to be just an extra.

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.”