Tokyo: Rabbit Officer and Her Evil Partner - Chapter 266 - 187 Wandering Soul’s Whisper

I possessed the weakest character in a survival game. Before the game started, 97% of the viewers bet that I would die. But I am confident. Because I am here, this character will survive until the end. I know the information about this survival game. *** After working hard, I became the guild master of the No. 1 guild and one of the top rankers. I gained reliable comrades and allies. “Rudel, you’re a really good person.” Lilith, the beautiful female character who always trusts me unconditionally. “Let’s eat that deer.” Gio, the battle member who, despite being half-naked and always hungry, holds immense potential. All I did was strive to survive. But some wanted more from me. “If you don’t have anyone else in mind… you could accept me.” The No. 1 male character in appearance clings to me, nearly in tears. The hidden character and the only bug character in this game that I found- “Rudel, you are dazzling. Both in body and soul. Unlike me.” He looked at me with clear eyes as if I were the only person in the world. Everyone, please stop. I’m busy uncovering the secrets of this game.

Lin Qing He transmigrated into a novel and became one of its cannon fodders. The novel’s background is non-viable 1960s, a time of want to eat but nothing to eat and want to wear but nothing to wear.

It was in the year 2800 of the Midgard calendar. Back then, there was a Overlord who once reigned supreme and had reached the very brink of subduing the world.

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.”