The Guide to Conquering Earthlings - Chapter 60: A surname 03

“Legend had it that in the deepest part of the oldest galaxy, there was a door as red as blood and fire.

Legends and myths, darkness and light, countless stories passed through this old door.

The Door of Constellation that overlooked everything would warn the sky and earth, sending darkness back to where it belonged.”

[Welcome to the Magic Universe, a world where magical power reigns supreme.][Congratulations on awakening the Infinity Money System.][Feel free to splurge your money and prove to the entire universe that there's nothing money can't solve.][If there is, it simply means you don't pay enough money!]So, the show of your adventure begins![Detected: Host burned Forbidden rank Scrolls for warmth, rewarded with God rank bloodline: Heart of Origin!][Detected: Host used Temporal Shard to ripen grapes, rewarded with God rank talent: Master of Time!][Detected: Host fed Leaves of the World Tree to a rabbit, rewarded with Mythical Beast: Aetherlapis!][Dear Host, you now bought and own the entire Magic Universe.][Which universe would you like to conquer next?]Good, let’s move on![Ding! Abnormality detected.][Warning, Host, you are not the only system processor…]

An ordinary sect cultivator, with the help of the immortal mansion, gradually grew up in the cruel world of immortality, and his mind and body transformed together.

Mortal flow, partial dark wind.

- Description from novelbuddy

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.”