Dungeon Hunter - Chapter 163: Demon World Auction (12)

Branded as the last remnants of evil.Once known as Cero Restes, now living under the name Gabby Magus walked into villain’s path. He swore to hunt every hero’s affiliated with the Dukedom of South in the kingdom of La Magia.Through a web of lies, manipulation, and ruthless strategy, he will rise—not as a savior, but as the villain hidden within the hero’s party.

Li Hao: What? Someone jailbreak? Huh? Why is there an exclamation mark on the reward notice?

[Click on this reward notice to get the location information of the jailbreaker~]

Li Hao: There is an exclamation mark on this scratch pad?

[Scratch this card and you will win a prize, don’t miss it~]

Li Hao: There is actually a question mark on this box of pills?

[This is a box of life-saving pills, which can save the life of an old man. The host can receive the task and go to a fixed location… and you will get an unexpected surprise~ Do you want to receive the task? Yes! no! 】

Li Hao: Can you still receive the mission? Eh…that person also has an exclamation point? Huh? This dog actually has hints~

[Ding dong, congratulations to the host, for completing the task, you will be rewarded with a villa worth tens of millions…]

[Ding dong, congratulations to the host, complete the task, reward a Bugatti Veyron…]

- Description from novelbuddy

I transmigrated into the gacha game I abandoned for 10 years.But, the state of the heroes I raised is strange.

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.”