Ruinous Return - Chapter 23

The Ring of Magic had shattered.Calamities emerged.Lind, who had crossed over to become a wild monster NPC at a stronghold in the apocalyptic Magic World, saw a group of undead shouting “Pass the flame” arrive at his territory. They held lofty ideals and were willing to sacrifice themselves to save the world.Therefore, Lind prepared to masquerade as the village chief of Newbie Village.Lind: As a remnant of the old era, I will craft a ship that can carry us to the new era.Player: After enduring endless hardships, we finally met the BOSS, and then the BOSS just knelt down and swore fealty to the lord....“I, the King of Game BOSSes, Just Want to Be a Good Newbie Village Chief”“Player: Every NPC on Our Side is as Strong as a BOSS”“Player: That BOSS Actually Can't Beat the Quest NPC We're Supposed to Protect?”Tags: Lord, Farming, Kindombuilding, Fantasy, Fourth Apocalypse

This is a story where the protagonist who obtained hypnosis does whatever he pleases and assaults girls at school. There are many lines where common sense is rewritten and unconscious assault. Not just s*x, but the particulars regarding the process, the situation, and the atmosphere of what occurs prior to the act are written about as much as possible.

After possessing the game’s villain, my goal was solely one thing –

To escape from this cursed game world.

[Embrace a death befitting a villain]

I failed on the first run.

But I resolved once more to escape this world…

“I missed you, Kyle.”

Yet the heroines who once loathed me began to plead for my affection.

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.”