MTL - My Captain - Chapter 5

Passing through the world after nuclear war on Earth, all humans fall into a game called “Transcendence”.Through games, people can gain the power to move mountains and seas. The strong can cross the void or the universe and do anything they want.Stel had been in this otherworldly place for eighteen years when one day, he woke up with the ability to “Evolve Every Day.”Various talents?Evolve!SSS-class “Descent of the God,” all attributes doubled, resurrection from death.SSS-class “Soul of Arcane,” all magic cast without conditions, power doubled, ignoring the opponent's defense.What about different skills?Evolve!“Fireball” → “Flamestorm”“Wind Blade” → “Storm of Death”...And what about different professions?Evolve!Treasured items? Evolve!Pets? Evolve!By the time Stel stepped out of the gaming pod and back into reality, the entire universe was already at his feet.

The extraordinaire has disrupted the silence of the world and ever since then, technology has taken a different path.

That year, she made a run for it while pregnant. He was a powerful figure in the Malacca Strait, commanding respect in both legal and illegal circles. He allowed no one to cross him. So, at the engagement party when she was 25, a stranger in black claimed that the bride had taken his virginity and insisted that she take responsibility and return his... child.“Do you also want to marry me?” she asked him. Although the wording was wrong, they were both getting married, so he agreed to “marry” her. Having a child and taking the wife's surname seemed like no big deal to the big boss. Surprisingly, he decided to retire and become a stay-at-home dad, shocking his brothers!

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.”