Transmigration: Into the Life of Severus Snape - Chapter 77 - 73: The Price of Invention

Shi Jin was a desperate woman and just a pretty face in her past life. She was swapped at birth and brought up in a rich family, only to eventually die a horrible death.

Renjin Yanase is an ordinary member of society whose occupation is a sales person. His hobby is an online VR game “Einherjar” that has been on for over five years now. It is a game with high degree of freedom and Renjin silently works hard to nurture his subordinate character.

The next day was a holiday so he’s going to use it for boss hunting all night.

When the boss hunt is finished, Renjin falls asleep in the game. He felt like someone was calling his name so he woke up.

Standing in front of the half-asleep Renjin was Eleanor, a character he created.

When Renjin looked outside after being puzzled to the characters who behave like they are alive, the outside scenery changed into one that he did not know at all.

Renjin who surveyed the surrounding, realized that the castle and the 200 subordinates that he created with time and money was transferred to a different world.

The transferred Renjin announced the declaration of the founding of a nation after a week.

There was a woman. Born as an illegitimate child and raised under the strict control of the queen, her world was as small as a well.

There was a man. He was forced to marry a woman who was his brother’s political marriage partner. His world, which was infinitely wide, became smaller.

The woman’s original sin, and the man’s resentment. “I should have just died instead…”

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.”