Mythical Slayer: Mythical Girls Contract - Chapter 21 21 – Oni’s Tradition

Thirty years old, he is an otaku. His job is to sell customized 6v elves on Taobao.com. He has just received a big order and has not yet completed the work. He has traveled to the real world of elves.

With a newly modified bird with its own “pick up” feature,

And a cheat that can change the flash, characteristics, and individual value of race.

But, can anyone tell him why there are only half of the gold fingers? !

And, silly bird, put down the Guyoka in your mouth!

Seeing Gu Yueniao who brought Gaioka home, Hu Yang suddenly became ill.

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The book is also known as: A career in the Pokémon world from scratch.

- Description from novelbuddy

“I shall not yield to fate nor destiny. I will create my legacy.” Yang Wei said as he stared at the clear blue sky.

Yang Wei, a mortal who has no background or power to become a cultivator except for his undying determination. An unwillingness to accept his fate as he will break away the chain that casts him behind.

In a world where spiritual qi exists, humans can utilize this power to cultivate and become a legend themselves. However, the path itself is gruesome and achieved through multiple obstacles.

Now it’s the time for Yang Wei to achieve something that no other predecessor has done in the past.

I can see ghosts. Even the ghosts inside games. But then…”Ah! Not there, over that way! My family heirloom is hidden there.” The ghosts in the game keep revealing hidden pieces to me.

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.”