Clan Leader: My strength equals to that of the entire clan - Chapter 558 - 144 The Pattern of the Sea of Primordial Chaos_2

“Kind? What’s kind about it? Taking on such quests isn’t being kind. It’s just being a pushover. A total pushover.”As the voices faded behind him, Kai glanced back at them.Me? A pushover? No way.[You have performed a good deed for an NPC in trouble.] [+1 Benevolence.]A reward given for doing a good deed?!Calculative, yet compelling enough to continue doing good deeds whether it’s healing or dealing damage.The Healing Solaris Cleric, Kai’s, journey to conquering MID Online!

Transmigrated into a trash body of general's daughter as female lead? Peh! Too mainstream! Transmigrated to be a villainess? Common! What about transmigrating and ending up as cannon fodder? Have read it before!

This novel is also known as I Can Bring In-game Items Out

I am an ordinary person, just a supernatural being who has awakened my personal space.

When the second world of the overwhelming holographic game hits, in the game, the protagonist took out the mineral water in his personal space and took a sip before covering himself up.

This, this seems to be in the game?

Since then, items in the game can be brought out, and items outside can be brought in, and the life of the protagonist has undergone earth-shaking changes.

Flying into the sky and fleeing the earth, what is it like to cast beans into soldiers, holding a Pangu ax and stepping on the Zhuxian sword is nothing but ordinary.

- 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.”