My Beloved Dog is the Strongest in Another World - Chapter 746

In a world fraught with innumerable dangers where living day by day is a struggle, a young man from the modern age transmigrated into such a world, accompanied by a peculiar system made for assassination.

“Ding, the strongest template system is officially opened!”

“Generating template…”

“Calculating…”

“Ding, congratulations to the host for obtaining a B-level template!”

“Extracting…”

“Ding, congratulations to the host for getting the JR-Smith template!”

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- Description from novelbuddy

“You dragged me into this world. Now you kneel in it.” — Tim SlokovBy day, Tim Slokov was a quiet office drone. By night, a ruthless online critic of fantasy novels. But when a mysterious force transmigrates him into the dying body of an elven outcast—doomed and powerless—Tim realizes he’s become the tragic background character of someone else’s story.Only he refuses to die quietly.Denied justice, Tim is granted a single gift: the Shattered Necromancy System, a broken power fueled by death itself.[Seek Me, O Death — Passive]: Every kill becomes a servant. Every soul feeds his army.[Death Embrace — Active]: He becomes what he commands—gaining the power of his dead.[Arise — Active]: The battlefield becomes his stage, where his fallen rise again.Armed with cursed power, Tim must evolve himself—and his ever-growing legion of the dead—to claw his way up a world that wants him erased. But vengeance is only the beginning. As his strength grows, so does the truth behind his forced arrival... and the god-like force that wants him broken.Tim isn’t here to play the hero.He’s here to rewrite fate—one death at a time.

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.”