Infinite Divine Gears in the City - Chapter 740 - 738-new teammate (1)

kingdom-building video game. Now the lord of a struggling FF-rank village, Rowan is tasked with an impossible mission: to transform his village into an unrivaled SSS-rank territory.Fortunately, Rowan wasn't left alone as his rewards reflected before his eyes.-SS-rank 100x Reward-SS-rank Copy-SS-rank Merge-SS-rank..-....Armed with these powerful skill, Rowan set out to build the greatest territory and become the unrivalled lord!

Usually when you possess a novel, you start in the city, but I fell into the forest.

Of all the characters in this story, it had to be the son of a bitch!?Thanks to the courtesy of Truck-kun, I was transmigrated into the famous yet garbage novel, [Hero's Apocalypse].The character I possessed was a third-rate extra who had the [Talent] to 'plunder' other talents. Yet, as overpowered as it might sound, the conditions to fulfill a successful plundering were extreme, making this character truly befitting a third-rate trash.But that's not what's important right now—it's the fact that this man's role in the original story was his very death, and I opened my eyes after the original body just finished killing himself.“Fuck! Why did you attempt to sexually assault the Imperial Princess?!”Feeling livid, I strongly punched the mirror in front of me, knowing that as soon as I gained a new life through mysterious means, others would inevitably come to take it because of this bastard's unforgivable sin.But I wanted to survive...Motherfucker, can I do it?!

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.”