Cultivation: Start From Simplifying Martial Arts Techniques - Chapter 1142 - 10098: The Final Space Rule

A face is a face, a song is a song, a composition is a composition.

Beautiful, talented and hardworking upcoming idol Sun Woojoo.

One day, a miracle came to him!

“I’ll become a star who shines more than anyone else.”

His dreadful dancing wasn’t an issue anymore.

At last, an idol with everything prepared.

Now, a monster rookie has appeared in the entertainment world!

In this life, the greatest star in the universe!

Bai Yang is the youngest son of a rich family who grew up spoiled, unambitious and having no one expect anything from him. He doesn’t really mind this though, because he’s still able to live a simple and happy life.

Strength.... That's all that matters in the end.

After being abandoned by his own family, and shunned for having no mana in a world dominated by magic, ex-prince Arvell Relas Vispia was forced to live on the streets with whatever meagre money he had left.

However, fate had something else in store for Arvell.

After meeting the spirit inhabiting his amulet, Arvell gets reborn as a Nephilim.

A being that has the powers of a god.

Time, Space, Life, Death.

All submitted to the authority of a Nephilim.

Betrayed by those he once called family, Arvell swore to get revenge.

Revenge on all those that mocked him and shunned him as a 'failure.'

Revenge on those who betrayed him without a second thought.

This is a tale of how a young prince shunned by the world as a 'failure' rises and ascends to the pinnacle of strength.

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.”