My Talent's Name Is Generator - Chapter 215: Return to One, Broken by Two

Hit by a truck as a young man, after winning God’s ultimate lottery prize, I got to create a HOLY sh*t-like cheat ability of my choosing, create a harem, make loads of money, sleep with a random babe, and do anything I liked; it’s that kind of story.

This is a story of an ordinary otaku crossing Sun Wukong in “Dragon Ball”; this is an invincible YY novel, there are many worlds, many girls!

Leisure, entertainment, round your dreams. Solemnly declare: This is an invincible stream yy novel, there are many heroines, do n’t like it! !! !! (This story and the characters are purely fictitious.

- Description from Shukeba

Kael, a former professional player of “Netherworld’s Gate” club, crossed into the game before it launched and became a Mixed-Blood Succubus. However, Kael always felt there was something not quite right about the way he raised the Fourth Calamity(player) as leeks for harvesting. Other NPCs’ methods of reaping players’ leeks: Unfathomable strength, top-tier plot backgrounds, hidden stories, and various skill teaching methods. His own method of reaping players’ leeks: An innocent yet desirable face, a small pink tail, eyes emitting hearts, skills with off-the-charts glamor… along with a turn-back-and-smile from the game’s promotional video. Wait a second, did I get something wrong with my great adventure in the game world? This book is also known as: “Succubus Reincarnation: Show Your True Skills in The Game World”, “The Common Succubus’s Cultivation Method”, “My Succubus Growth Monogatari is Surely Problematic”!!! Keywords: 【Fourth Calamity】【Kindombuilding】【Lord】【Dungeon】【Player】

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.”