Ms. Bigshot Is Pampered by All - Chapter 193 - 192: Something Feels Off

Once upon a time, an Alchemist Grandmaster from the World of Immortals accidentally took possession of a playboy, who hailed from a rich and powerful family, and became a student in the middle of his midterms.

By the means of a miraculous immortal technique, he blended in and mingled amongst the femme fatales’ group to dominate the city! The nature of this novel’s origin is shamelessness to the core; having no sense of shame is just a basic foundation, but if the most shameless isn’t set yet, then become it!

- Description from Novelupdates

Noah is a handsome but struggling high school senior burdened by his family's poverty and his father's illness. He finds comfort in his girlfriend, Layla, until one day, a surprise visit to her house reveals her betrayal.Just as Noah is about to confront her, a mysterious robotic voice echoes in his mind:[Ding! Congratulations to the host binding the Ultimate Choice System!]Option 1: Enter the room, she will kick you out with a green hat on your head. [$100 Reward and a green hat]Option 2: Leave like you did not hear anything, and break up with her. [Rolls Royce Phantom and Basic-Driving Skill Reward]Option 3: Marry her Mom. [Lamborghini Aventador SVJ, Intermediate-Driving Skill and 10,000$ Reward]Looking at the options, Noah couldn't help but smirk.

Adam Quinn, a 26-year-old US Army ranger, was on his way back from his sixth tour of combat when his plane was ripped apart in a violent storm. Waking up in a new, strange world with a system call the conqueror system.Will Adam choose the path of war or the path of diplomacy?

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.”