MTL - Marvel: Starting From the Dimensional Demon God - Chapter 94

One night she gets drunk and mistakes the most well-known Mafia boss for a Host* and intends to sleep with him.

On the first day Yuna became a class teacher, she became well-known in school because of her looks. On the second day of becoming a class teacher, a student secretly took photos of her with his phone and was called to the principal’s office with his Guardian. The person who showed up turned out to be Yuna’s university crush, Xiao Chen.

To Yuna’s surprise, Xiao Chen was the elder brother of the very student whose class she manages. She also realized that this rebellious student causes trouble two or three days out of every week, indirectly giving them many chances to meet.

…

When they reunite again, Yuna is puzzled. Wasn’t Xiao Chen a poor young master in the past? How come he’s now driving luxury cars and living in mansions?

Xiao Chen is also puzzled. Wasn’t Yuna a rich daddy’s girl in the past? How come she’s now dressing plainly and squeezing onto public transport??

…

In the eyes of her students, Yuna is very beautiful but has always been diligent and thrifty, with little interest in money.

However, one day a Rolls Royce showed up outside school, waiting. Upon seeing Yuna, the chauffeur respectfully opened the door for her, “Miss Yuna, please get in.”

From that day forth, her true identity set off huge discussions in school.

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.”