MTL - I Really Don’t Want To Inherit the Winery - Chapter 33

Sumi has always despised the world she lives in—one filled with greed, deceit, and pain. Trapped in a miserable life with a dead-end job and mounting debt, she sees no escape. But when her lecherous boss crosses the line, Sumi reaches her breaking point. In a desperate act, she takes her own life—only to awaken in the darkness and found out that her wish has been granted she is no longer human she finds herself in the most unexpected form… a seed of a flower and she was in the world which she only knows in game and stories. a world where creature like demon, monster and things like magic and spells exist and she is going to live her second life… as a flower.

The world I transmigrated into was a dark fantasy game universe, devoid of hope or dreams.Doesn’t feel like it at all, though.

Lin Qiao remembers nothing from the past five years since the post-apocalyptic era began. She wakes up only to find herself having become a newborn, superpowered zombie, in a body that used to belong to an evil and notorious woman!

Having kidnapped a girl and raped her father, the previous host met her demise at the very hands of the conspiracies she courted all her life, leaving Lin Qiao no choice but to deal with the consequences while trying to figure out her own past and the fate of her loved ones.

As for the little girl’s father, can’t he just have a decent fight? He’s a human being, but why is he biting a zombie? She’s the zombie! She’s the one who’s supposed to bite!

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.”