Master Hunter K - Chapter 119 – Black Market Tenth Shopping (8)

A Filipino man died in an illness during the latest pandemic and found himself transmigrated in a world of magic, in which he received a dinging sound in his ear.[You have transmigrated in the body of: Nameless: abandoned newborn humanAbandoned what?[God of Undead: ??? Have bestowed you his blessing by giving you the name [ Sophia Demiurge] ]I'm a girl?

When the world became a landscape for a game, humans immediately became dolls who no longer moved nor breathed, frozen like items on display in a shelf.

In the beginning, Bai Youwei thought this was an alien prank. Nobody knew why the humans suddenly became dolls. That was until they were all gathered together and sucked into a bright fog before being greeted by a mechanical voice,

“Ding! Welcome to the Game of Dolls! The rules are as follows:

1. Refusing to play the game will result in dollification!

2. Failure to beat the game will result in dollification!

3. Beating the game to win a doll!”

Bai Youwei walks into the embrace of Shen Mo trembling. “I’m scared, I’m just a weak little girl…”

Shen Mo takes her hand, places it on his abs and says, “Now you don’t have to be scared anymore!”

The game systems starts ringing in the background, “Alert! Alert! Please respect the game and focus! No dating inside the game!”

This is a story of how an intelligent and calm young lady works with a boy with nothing but a hot bod to beat the impossible Game of Dolls!

……………………………………………………………

Dear readers! Without any ads, maybe you will prefer .

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.”