Sorcerer: I want to be an Academic Prodigy - Chapter 648 - 633 Spirit Lake Teleportation_3

I was reborn as the villainous daughter, Yumiela Dolknes, in the world of an otome RPG game. Yumiela only had a small role in the original story, but after defeating the Demon King, she will appear as the Hidden Boss with a bonus specs to solo fight the Hero party.

Having a gamer-spirit, I’ve been raising my level since I was a child. By the time I enter the academy where the game stage is, I was level 99.

I wanted the heroine and the capture targets to defeat the Demon King, but they just flirted around and didn’t raise their level. Moreover, they treat me as if I’m the Demon King just because I have dark hair and use dark magic.

It’s a story where I aim for peaceful days.

Chen Mo a game designer got sent to a parallel world with advance technology but undeveloped game concepts.

The MMORPG ’EVR’ was released unexpectedly one day, along with its advanced equipment that allowed players to fully immerse themselves in the game, even though prior VR technology wasn’t nearly as realistic. To prevent people from replacing their real lives with the game, the servers were shut down during the day and on weekends. I was the best at the game, but since I had no friends or family, I could only watch and bet on sports while waiting for the servers to reopen—until the day I died and regressed to a week before the game was released. I know everything that will happen in the game. I know the game is not just realistic; it’s real. And for some reason, I don’t need to log out!

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.”