Mr. President: You Are The Daddy Of My Triplets - Chapter 136- Home Wrecker

[Ding! You've gained ten thousand Drug Points! You can now use “Hypnotic Drugs.”][Ding! Due to the host's tendencies, the effects are twice as effective on females.][Ding! Due to the host's tendencies, the effects are three times as effective on females deeply in love with their partners.][Ding! Due to the host's tendencies, the effects are four times as effective on MILFs.][DING! New Mission: Steal the Tech Hammer CEO's wife and daughter.]

In a world where omegas are at the top of the social hierarchy, Lee Jiyeon, a female chef from the 21st century, finds herself transmigrated into the body of a poor Alpha girl in a world ruled by omegaverse dynamics.Upon awakening, Jiyeon discovers she has not only inherited the Alpha body but also a marriage contract with the tyrant Yura, making matters more complicated.In this new world, Jiyeon's culinary skills are not just a passion but a valuable asset. She gains a Culinary System that helps her rise from rags to riches.

After crossing over to another world which seemed to be a fusion between many anime worlds, The Fantasy System was unlocked for Mu Fan. After finishing the tasks given by the system, Fantasy points are given which allows him to gain access to the Fantasy store that was full of daily talents and more.

Yuuki Asuna: You know how to cook a lot of dishes. Can you teach me?

Sagiri: I don’t know anyone called Eromanga-Sensei.

Many more characters and interesting plots await us.

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.”