The Attack of the Wastrel - Chapter 371 – Some Gifts for the Murderer

What would happen if an ordinary guy on Blue Star became a Superman?Traversing between worlds, Lu Yao becomes the only one with extraordinary powers. He studies cultivation in the other world, and bring them the technology of his planet. Now, he is the only superman in both worlds.A small goal— to withstand a nuclear bomb~

In the pursuit of wealth and land, cultivation was actually a very expensive luxury activity. Having unintentionally received the legacy of the legendary cultivator, alchemist, and medical scholar Ge Hong, the simple mountain man Ge Dongxu began to earnestly make money. While most people were still in high school, he had already started to earn money for his alchemy and cultivation as he studied. While most college students were worried about the expenses of having a girlfriend, he had already become a boss. When most college graduates were busy sending out resumes in search of a job, and rich second-generation kids were showing off sports cars in front of beauties, he had already become a super-rich heir, and of course, a supreme medical saint hidden in plain sight.

One night a mysterious and unexplained phenomenon occurs in the nine provinces. Five years later Chu Feng, a regular outer disciple of the Azure Dragon school, awakens one of the mysterious nine lightning beasts. And discovers an egg sealed inside him.

From there we follow Chu Feng as he crosses the continent, beating up strongest senior brothers, raiding tombs, destroying sects and of course as he conquers beauties.

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.”