Sir, How About A Marriage? - Chapter 833 - Fainting

[Target Of Misfortune: Rank SSS (Level: 1)]

This skill changed my life. I a poor nobody despised by other had gained this opportunity.

Using the skill of mine, I will rise to the top. And no one will stop me.

Kiro is a slave branded with a deadly collar, forced to work in brutal mines under the ruthless Kargal Empire. Each year, slaves are hunted for sport in the deadly Hunting Games—a fight to the death on a savage alien moon. This year, Kiro is chosen to play. Sent into a wilderness filled with monsters and traps, survival seems impossible. But something ancient watches from the shadows—and it has plans for him.

Eight hundred years ago, Xie Lian was the Crown Prince of the Xian Le kingdom. He was beloved by his citizens and was considered the darling of the world. He ascended to the Heavens at a young age; however, due to unfortunate circumstances, was quickly banished back to the mortal realm. Years later, he ascends again–only to be banished again a few minutes after his ascension.

Now, eight hundred years later, Xie Lian ascends to the Heavens for the third time as the laughing stock among all three realms. On his first task as a god thrice ascended, he meets a mysterious demon who rules the ghosts and terrifies the Heavens, yet, unbeknownst to Xie Lian, this demon king has been paying attention to him for a very, very long time.

- 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.”