Inferior Magic Swordsman: Using the Skill Board to Become the Strongest - Chapter 21: Receptionist’s spirit

Crossing the sky, you don’t have a prominent background, you don’t have a grandfather ring, and you only have a little talent. What would you do?

Fortunately, Xiao Ming awakened the life simulator!

[Life Simulator is on:]

[You have lived an ordinary life. ]

[Extracting talent items]

[Currently available: Qinglian Earth Heart Fire, Melting Flame, Evil Poison Body]

[Please select one]

Every seven days, you can choose to extract one of the talent items from a simulation.

At this point, Xiao Ming began his ordinary life.

ps: The protagonist has a good talent and does not rely entirely on the simulator.

- Description from novelbuddy

For Marco, Lucas is his meek little brother. For the rest of the world, he is the menacing Ghost of Vermil.“Angels endow blessings. Demons sow curses.” A hundred years ago, angels and demons descended on earth. It is said they are still here.Annointed with potent holy power, Marco is set to join the Kingdom's Holy Army to fight off the demonic legion. But before that, he must confront the trail of blood and ash that points to Lucas's involvement with the dark side.As mysteries unfold and loyalties fracture, Marco is faced with the question: where does holiness end and damnation begin? If all lines are blurred and the fate of humanity is at stake, will he have enough resolve to strike down the brother he once swore to protect?

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.”