Reborn In The Apocalypse: It Had Always Been You - Chapter 102

In the aftermath of a tragic incident, the soul of Zhang Fei was transmigrated into a sacred body in a world of cultivation. Joined by the consciousness of an ancient cultivator, Zhang Fei must find a way to survive in this deadly world of beast demons and immortal cultivators.

Seo Tae Hyuk, jailed after being falsely accused.

In his old world, Aiden Ferith was a peerless war hero—feared by nations, revered by millions. Through years of brutal cultivation, he reached heights others only dreamed of. But glory turned to ash when his most trusted disciple drove a blade through his heart, shattering his empire and his soul.That should have been the end.But fate had other plans.Reborn in a world ruled by magic, where mages manipulate elements and battle with dazzling spells, Aiden awakens in the body of a seemingly average boy named Logan Smith. Here, cultivation is unheard of—dismissed as a myth, or worse, a joke.But what they don’t understand will be their undoing.Armed with ancient cultivation techniques that bypass the limitations of magic, Logan begins to carve a path that defies the laws of this new realm. Stronger, faster, and more resilient than any mage, he’s not here to play by their rules.He’s here to break them.Betrayed once.Stripped of everything.This time, he’s not fighting for a kingdom—He’s here to live life on his own terms—to protect those he loves, and finally, to live for himself.

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.”