My America - Chapter 51 - : Weak Countries Have No Diplomacy

A Federation Colonel with abnormal thoughts was locked in a dark room and met a little looney.

“Your whole body emits a scent that I dread (covet) and fear (desire).”

A frigid Colonel X little looney roommate: A sweet story of interstellar travel

- Description from Novelupdates

As a useless spoiled wild child, Bai YiHan finally brought about the end of his family, chased away the one he loved and caused his own death. After rebirth, he decides to cleanse himself and work hard at being a good child. But a lot of things don’t seem to be as he expected…

Bai Pa + Bai Ma: My son’s so obedient. Someone must be bullying him. This cannot be forgiven!

Bai Big Bro + Bai Big Sis: If my little brother’s sensibility comes from his suffering, then I’d rather he be a spoiled brat forever!

Mu JingYuan: If HanHan hits you, you must accept it. Yet you dodged…The wind’s changing. Someone should be bankrupt to make HanHan smile.

Bai YiHan: …I was so wild in my past life. Your involvement are undeniable!

This story is speculative, speculative, speculative. Important matters must be said thrice. Everything is about speculative time-traveling.

- Description from Novelupdates

The story is about a man who’s opposed to the now-common practice of implanting false memories, but is one day given memories of a fictional childhood friend. This fabricated happiness torments him, but then, to his surprise, he meets her – a girl who shouldn’t exist.

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.”