Creating Heavenly Laws - Chapter 73

The Pseudo-Holy Grail War of Snowfield is About to Begin!Moran, who has transmigrated into the Type-Moon universe, is determined to clear the game in one life!Waiting online, urgent!Ding! You have successfully activated the Life Simulator!• 【You drove out the foreign Olympian Machine Gods, took the hand of the Earth Mother Goddess, and founded a new nation and mythology.】• 【You are the Lord of the Millennium Castle, bestowed with the name Brunestud, and the beloved ruler of the land in the eyes of the Crimson Moon.】• 【You are the Final King of the Age of Gods, single-handedly preventing its decline and ensuring that Divine Age Britain endures to this day.】Behind this dazzling simulated life, Moran now faces—Arcueid: “Weren’t you supposed to pick me up at the Millennium Castle? Why are you here in the Holy Grail War?!”Artoria: “Enough! Come back to Britain with me!”Ereshkigal: “Moran! Who are all these women?!”As his ever-growing circle of admirers closes in, Moran realizes—This might just be the hardest “Kidney Grail War” in history.

She choked to death after drinking a mouthful of cold water. Was there anything more unlucky than this?

Of course, there was! When she reopened her eyes, she found herself transmigrated into a three-hundred-pound fatty.

Not only was she fat and round, but she also had a palm-sized black spot on her body.

She looked down at the layers of swimming floats on her body and swore to exercise and lose weight.

She had just lifted her leg when she collapsed to the ground. This time, she was prepared to go on a diet and lose weight.

When she heard the earth-shattering rumbles from her stomach, she held herself back.

She had not eaten for three days, but she realized that she had only lost one tael.

She instantly broke down. Sensing that something was wrong, she checked and realized that she had been poisoned.

As a descendant of a family that practiced traditional Chinese medicine, this was a small matter.

With acupuncture techniques in her hands, why would she be afraid of a little poison?

Before she could succeed in losing weight, the scumbag canceled their engagement and her stepsister came to provoke her.

‘It’s fine. Staying calm is more important. What? Does he dare to call me an ugly pig, a fat woman, a fatty? This is intolerable!’ With her acupuncture skills, she was able to detoxify the poison and become beautiful.

Using her competence, she managed to face-slap everyone and lose weight while torturing scum.

After accidentally rescuing a chronically ill uncle, he turned out to be her scumbag ex-fiance’s uncle.

She smiled maliciously and said, “Uncle, you should give yourself to me in return for rescuing your life!” When she saw the scumbag again, she said warmly, “My good nephew, call me Auntie.”

Persona:

Song Jiaren: Vengeful for the smallest grievance, naughty, and cheeky.

Yan Cheng: Two-faced, strong, patient, and cunning.

A modern programmer, Li Wansui, traveled to the beginning of the golden age of Hong Kong in 79 years!

In the entertainment industry, he is the godfather of a generation!

In the electronics world, he is a tycoon!

He can’t write novels, he can’t write plays, and he doesn’t know what’s going on in this era.

But time-travel is the golden finger. With a little bit of information obtained from the previous life, please see how Li Wansui is so high.

——————-

Keywords:

Hong Kong entertainment, Hong Kong, business, electronics, computer.

- 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.”