MTL - Starting from Zero - v2 Chapter 3 Company Announcement

“The Second Cult Leader and the Prophet of the Voodooists died during the Holy War seven years ago.”

Florence Academy was a prestigious clergy academy.

“Now that the Voodooists are considered as a cult, who is the Third Cult Leader, where are they now, and what are they up to?”

Only I knew the answer to this question.

The Third Cult Leader was a freshman at Florence Academy. He was here, standing amongst the others in the auditorium.

How do I know this, you ask?

Because I’m the Cult Leader.

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Upon transmigrating, Su Xing awakens in a highly advanced game-like martial world.This world is populated by extraordinary beings known as Awakeneds. Favored by Heaven, these Awakeneds can level up and increase their power by clearing dungeons and slaying monsters.Su Xing receives a hidden profession, a Cultivator. However, due to unknown reasons, he is unable to gain experience or level up like other Awakeneds.Unable to level up, he can only cultivate. But in this era of declining spiritual energy, where cultivators are nearly extinct, even acquiring spiritual energy is a luxury. After four years of university, Su Xing is still at the puny Qi Refining stage, struggling to even graduate.Fortunately, he awakens a golden finger, the “Life Simulator,” which allows him to simulate the future by paying energy. He can bring back the cultivation and items obtained in the simulation to the real world.

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.”