The Reversal of a Son-in-law - Chapter 362 The Undying Mountain Enters Guizhou Province (1)

Ernest Quelt, the alchemist renowned for his unparalleled mastery of alchemy, has perished.But his death wasn't a noble sacrifice in battle, nor the result of a failed expedition—it was a betrayal. The very comrades he trusted most turned on him, driven by envy of his growing power.Yet fate wasn’t entirely cruel. With his final breath, Ernest's gaze fell upon the tube that contained his greatest achievement: a perfect artificial being known as the Homunculus.More than just a vessel resembling a human, this creation harbored the power of a catastrophic beast—one that had once nearly brought the world to ruin.

Good Looks: Check!
OP Skills: Check!
Face Slapping: Check!
PP Size: Check!

Lucien was more than ready to embark in his new adventure to save a dying world from destruction as part of the Heaven's Gate Project.

However, just as he was about to be sent to the world that he was about to save, an accident happened, which forced his Patron God, the God of Gamblers, to take another gamble in order to preserve his chosen candidate's life.

Lucien, who's new identity was named Lux, found himself in a world where darkness could be light, and light could be dark. A world where morality was but a thin line from depravity, and a happy ending could only be gained, by facing the world and slapping it with a Legion of the Undying.

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.”