My Cell Prison - Chapter 154 - : 154 Banquet

Junseo thought he was just installing a chill farming sim to de-stress after another soul-sucking shift in Seoul. Grow some crops, raise a few cows, maybe romance an NPC—simple stuff.Then he woke up inside the game.In a new body. In a suspiciously sexy world.With a system that thinks “breeding” is more important than breathing.And a robot waifu guide who takes everything way too literally.Now he's stuck in a countryside hellhole with zero skills, zero tools, and a suspicious loaf of bread. His only goal?Survive without accidentally triggering a hentai side quest.Too bad the game has other plans.Too bad the villagers are way too friendly.Too bad the only way to unlock skills... is by combining everything.He just wanted to grow carrots.Now he might end up marrying half the village.Tags:Transmigration,Harem (slow burn),Comedy,Slice of Life,Farming Sim,Adult Themes (18+),System,Self-aware Protagonist,Kingdom Building,No Overpowered Skills,Robot Waifu,Skill Fusion and Lewd but Smart

Before her rebirth, Wei Luo was an innocent little girl.

After rebirth, she appeared lovable on the outside but was a different person on the inside.

Those who learned of her true nature yielded to her.

Only the prince regent regarded her as a treasure; no matter how much he pampered her, it was not enough for him.

Anything she wanted, he gave her, including the princess position that she didn’t want, which he stubbornly pushed onto her.

- Description from Novelupdates

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.”

No NTR-IncestA Boy struggles with the problems of being raised in a family full of lewd older women.