MTL - I Have a Crush I Want to Talk to You - ~ Chapter 16 Because I like you, so others are rivals in love

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.

Do you know how this world ends?

Scorned by the world he was born in, Arthur had no other choice but to learn how to deal with it. Yet, just as his hard work and dedication were about to pay off, the hate towards his origins brought him to his death.

But that wasn't his fate. His future wasn't supposed to end with his head cracking against the edge of the stairs. His bloodline could not die as that would be against the wish of the universe itself.

Thrown to another world, he found himself in a situation where the skills and craft he honed would be no longer of use. His patience, his creativity, his logical thinking were no longer in demand in a world where strength reigned supreme.

Or was it?

My system is overpowered. I'm not shameless enough to deny it.

Scores of women and slaves all around? Those are the wishes of a naive kid, not mine.

Lower the price of those apples by a quarter and we will have a deal!

Dear, stop, I cannot hold any longer!

Jump in and follow Arthur's adventures as he proves that even the illogical world of sword and cultivation has its own rules. Laws, that one can learn, laws, that Arthur sets off to use to his own advantage!

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.”