The Lunar Curse: A Second Chance With Alpha Draven - Chapter 180: Brazen Attacks

The strangest fate, the most exciting mind games, the cruelest survival battle, the craziest fantasy, the most bizarre truth… The first is here to battle for another ten years!

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Witnessing her boyfriend cheating on her with her bestie, Shiyao was so angry that she went to a pub for fun and met a man, who was really a piece of work. After a crazy night she fled away, but was embarrassed to know that the man she slept with was her boss You Ze.
Jesus, give her a break!

- Description from Novelupdates

Being the author of the breakout novel, Gates of The Primordials, Jarren Fletcher did not care about the constant critiques claiming he had a habit of treating extra characters as mere plot devices, creating and then dumping them once they’d served their purpose.To Jarren, it didn’t matter. Extras were just that—extras. All that mattered was the main character.But Jarren never expected to wake up in his own story, reincarnated as one of the meaningless, disposable extra characters, Deremiah Morcant—a coward who took his own life to escape the perilous challenges of the Gate Trials.Now, Jarren has to face those deadly challenges himself in the body of a weak, insignificant extra. He must find a way to survive in the rules of the dangerous world he had created, whilst also trying to save it.But time is running out. The next Wave is coming, and so are the paragons.

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.”