MTL - The Apocalyptic Master of Synthesis - Chapter 620 Pseudo-monster siege (new book opened)

After her previous life, Lan Ke luckily received an universal trade system, and also a ruthless food waster. After initializing the universal trade, becoming a universe merchant, it was the good days of breezing disasters, face-hitting, embracing handsome men! Though as she got stronger and stronger, she stumbled upon the scary secret of the apocalypse!

- Description from Novelupdates

John has been reading [The Legend of Divine Twig] for years, but at the end, the author rushes through it, leaving him with a bad taste in his mouth. He furiously contacts the author, stating he could have done better.To his surprise, the Author replied to him with one wordBetJohn has been plucked from his room into the world of the divine and wretches. He enjoys reading the novel but he wouldn't want to be in it. The world is full of hotel knights, priest, mysticism and worst of all eldritch horror.

Ban Yu-won can understand all the languages in existence. He was able to translate every language, modify it.

As a child, when Ban Yu-won first learned about the existence of the fictional building called the Tower of Babel in the Bible, his respectable grandfather told him it was their ancestors who built it.

“The Tower of Babel was completed without collapse, and people have the wrong idea.”

One day, out of the blue, the Union Academy practical exam began. Finding traces of his ancestors at the academy, Ban Yu-won decides to enroll in the academy full of monsters.

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.”