Victor of Tucson - Chapter 8Book : : Fighting Spirit

(A truly satisfying power-fantasy novel, lighthearted and completely stress-free, with the only female lead being Tsunade.)Reborn into the world of Naruto, the protagonist embarks on his journey.He is determined to erase all regrets.So, he set a small personal goal for himself first—win over Tsunade!

With a sword in hand and wine in tow, he roams the martial world; her slender waist is light as a feather in his palm.The young man strides forward with a long blade slung over his shoulder and a flask at his side, yet the world of martial arts he seeks remains elusive.As the chaotic world book turns a new page, decades of relentless nights in the martial world pass by.Suddenly, he looks back and finds he has already shattered the mortal realm.

Yun Lintian, a man from modern Earth, found himself in a cliche situation that was all too familiar to him in novels: Being transmigrated! He had arrived in a magical cultivation-oriented world called the Azure World.

Unlike the other protagonists in various novels he had read before, Yun Lintian was left without any cheat device. Pill Emperor inheritance? Super God-like physique? He had nothing!

Did the God of Transmigration really leave him with nothing? How was he going to live in the world that strong preying on the weak?

Watch the journey of Yun Lintian in the foreign world as he grew up in power ranking along with his precious all-female sect!

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.”