MTL - Ask Sword - Chapter 548 stage

A Speedster in a Fantasy World

Bai Muchen had it all — not only was he the most renowned martial artist of the Nine Heaven continent, he even had the Five Meridians of Tianling and was engaged to Xuan Qingzhu, the beautiful daughter of his mentor. But everything falls apart when he’s set up by his fiancé and mentor during a cultivation session, and he is killed.

Reborn as a young man named Xiang Nan, the heir of a declining family, can Bai Muchen get his revenge?

A young man named Alexander Ashbourne is looking for a job to support his studies. He applies to work as a waiter at a restaurant. The next day on his 18th birthday, a system appears that generates money simply by idling. This system also allows him to trade with beings from other worlds or even visit their realms. Watch as Alexander rises to fame across all the realms.[DeathlessOne: I just spotted this mortal, 'AlexanderTheGrate,' trying to trade his drink called Mountain Dew. I'm thinking of offering my Flame Sword for it.][ShadowEternal: Wait, what’s a Mountain Dew?][TimelessWanderer: Are you seriously considering trading your Emperor-grade sword for a mere drink?][DeathlessOne: It’s not just any drink. The taste is out of this world, It's even better than the heavenly wine.][ShadowEternal: {...}][TimelessWanderer: {...}][Everyone in the chat: {...}][RichNigga: You know what, I’m in. I’ll trade my Gold Deluxe Armor just to see if this Mountain Dew is worth all the hype.]

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.”