Reborn at Boot Camp: General, Don’t Mess Around! - Chapter 3585 - : Sorry

In an alternate world, countless monsters crossed through rifts, sweeping across human cities and bringing an apocalyptic crisis upon humanity.From that moment, humanity entered an era where everyone transitioned into different professions. Nations took pride in cultivating strong professionals and competing for top ranks in strategies for the alternate world.When the first supreme ruler of the Dragon Kingdom, who had been dormant for millions of years, awakened with resources accumulated over that time, the bosses of the alternate world trembled.Top-tier professionals from countries around the globe bowed in submission...-------My new book: “Full-Star Player Returns as a Godslayer”

After spending his sixth year at Hogwarts a century ago, Harry finds himself back in the cupboard under the stairs in 1991, once again receiving his Hogwarts acceptance letter.“You’re telling me my parents were killed by a dark wizard?” Harry asked. “Who is this dark wizard? Why are you all so afraid of him that you won’t even say his name?”“It’s Vol—,” Hagrid began cautiously. “Well, we call him Voldemort, because he personally killed hundreds of people.”Harry nodded nonchalantly.“And what happened the next day?”Hagrid: “Uh?”--

After she noticed she was being chased after by a certain beauty, she bound herself to a System and started her quick transmigration journey…

After a countless number of worlds, the beauty was finally driven to villainy, and his long, elegant fingers pulled at his black tie…

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.”