MTL - I Try To Become An Immortal Through Mortal Science - Chapter 1321 Kyudenten Aoyagi

Fate is weird. Of all the people in the world, why would it select me to send to a different world?

And what is it trying to do? Put up a show by giving me a system? But oh well, what do I care.

The previous owner of this body was a cripple and looked down on, but now I can slap their faces with my system.

Young masters? Get out of my way!

Princes? Geniuses? Oh please. I have a system. That does not mean anything to me.

I know that I am not the greatest. But fate gave me a cheat system, and I am not wasting it.

I am going to do whatever it takes to conquer this world. Fate forced me to do this. It isn’t my fault if I cause some ruin on the way.

Transmigrated Become Sukuna, but the host is Yukinoshita Yukino?“Ryomen Sukuna? The strongest sorcerer in history? He’s just an ordinary person born in a time without me.”Hayashizaki stood in front of Ryomen Sukuna, looking at him with a playful expression.“On my left is the 'Little Yukinoshita,' a possessor of multiple techniques, easily wielding both the Limitless Cursed Technique and the Ten Shadows Technique; on my right is the 'Big Yukinoshita,' who has awakened a unique modern technique, no less powerful than me. As for slashing techniques, those are just our basic attacks.”“So, tell me, how do you, Sukuna with 15 fingers, plan to deal with this?”Ryomen Sukuna stared at the black-haired young man in front of him, whose cursed energy was identical to his own, dumbfounded.

As a wandering soul trapped in endless cycles of reincarnations, Claus must decide what to do in his current life.

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.”