Isekai Journey Of The Magic Archer - Chapter 1204: Details of competition

A next-generation virtual online game, a hardcore gamer, a glitch that shouldn’t have existed… By sheer coincidence, Meng Jingtian ended up being the sole player god in a game. Thus, while ordinary players worked themselves to death running missions for NPCs to win their favor, NPCs prostrated before him! While ordinary players almost vomited blood grinding for gear so that they could solo bosses, the king of divine beasts kneeled before him, willing to offer its life and worship him. And while players went to suicidal lengths to trigger random events and lucky encounters, transcendent beings came to find him so that they could offer their precious treasures as tribute.

Chen Rui, an otaku from earth, is reborn into a human body in another world, who falls into the legendary evil, brutal world of the devil called Mozu where humans are treated as food. He has to survive while facing horrors of the devil, violent dragons and a variety of power enemies depending on a strange super system chip and his wits. Surrounded by Devil’s beauties such as black-bellied lolita princess, cold queens, violent dragons, charming poisonous devils …

Kiro is a slave branded with a deadly collar, forced to work in brutal mines under the ruthless Kargal Empire. Each year, slaves are hunted for sport in the deadly Hunting Games—a fight to the death on a savage alien moon. This year, Kiro is chosen to play. Sent into a wilderness filled with monsters and traps, survival seems impossible. But something ancient watches from the shadows—and it has plans for him.

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.”