The Hero King, Reincarnate to Master the Art of War ~And Thus, I Became The Strongest Knight Disciple (♀) in The World~ - Chapter 11: Inglis, 6 years old (2)

Li Xuehao found a secret of monasticism in the cover of the genealogy. After spending ten years, he finally succeeded in building the foundation. Unexpectedly, he was eager to get rid of the evil spirits. After his death, he was born again in Yokohama, Japan, and was attached to Sakura, Tsurumi. The story of the high school student Gao Zhonghao in the college, the story begins here…

- Description from Shubaow (Translated)

Explore the Universe through the hardest, truest weapon: the Fist.

Jack Rust was a disillusioned biologist with a PhD—almost. When an extraterrestrial AI calling itself the System invaded Earth and thrust it into a world of aliens and violence, the least Jack hoped for was magic. Unfortunately, the System decided to spawn a forest dungeon around him and a goblin in his face, which left him little choice.

Armed with nothing but his fists, Jack must grow strong enough to survive entire menageries of monsters. He needs to return to civilization and find out what the hell is going on. He might also get magic—or not. Surprising himself, Jack discovers that violence is fun.

In this battle-ridden new world, Jack finds the life he always dreamed about. He won’t just survive. He will thrive.

……………………………………………………………

Dear readers! Without any ads, maybe you will prefer .

Lin Xiao was an orphan who strived to get stronger while living with his sickly younger brother in an unnamed small village.

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.”