MTL - Master of Exotic Planting - Chapter 233 Here comes the big man

What should I do if I cross to another world and become an NPC?

This idea has been deeply rooted and sprouted in William’s mind!

Therefore, he decided:

I want to be the strongest NPC in history.

Wear the thickest armour and give the most vicious beatings!

Who says an NPC will be killed by players?

Who says an NPC upgrades more slowly than players?

Who says an NPC must explode equipment, I can explode in more ways… Bah humph.

Anyway, it’s impossible for me to die. Just take a look at all you trash players. Your father will stand here and let you chop for an hour without a frown!

- Description from Novelupdates

Chen Xiaoyun, an orphan from Guangzhou, China, once met a girl who looked remarkably like him. Before he could learn more about her, a deadly virus was unleashed around the globe.Humans turned into creatures straight out of video games and movies, and zombies and mutants roamed the streets with no one to stop them.From tanks to jockeys to even invisible zombies and mutated dogs. The mutations are just endless.“Why is there a zombie apocalypse just as I find my family? And why can I suddenly create things from thin air?”Will Xiaoyun survive the chaos with the new people he meets along the way? Will he use his newfound abilities to bring peace to a devastated world?Or perhaps he will just take another nap in the bed like a lazy pig——“Shut up. How am I supposed to do anything when you keep throwing women at me?”

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.”