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Enter Me! The Skillionaire Says In Parentheses

"What are the odds of gods for not putting me on the top? Screw it! Let's hatch a plot blacker than a kettle calling a pot!" Enter MFX90! Preferred referral, MF! Not that Mother******. First letter: 'Messiah'! Second letter: 'Father'! Why? Because you'll be calling her Daddy!—Despite choosing to stay female for psychological advantage to many heroes and transmigators along the way who find her scrumptious. A poet who'd lull you with flowery words before crushing it. A psychologist where lies and truths are but the same as myth. A strategist who controls the marionette like a pirouette. And a devil who hates hubris to the core. Living in a chaotic world with Usurpers and Angels trying to ram each other like batteries, with an ounce of stupidity faster than the reeling tape of misery. That 'MF' is the exemplar of perfection! Because it will be impossible to defeat a cultivator with just a little tinker on her genes. Who would have thought that being able to harness the harness proved to be horrifyingly destructive? This advocate of determination deem herself as a Skillionaire, collecting every knowledge and capabilities just to categorize them into 'Skill' within her brain. An internal system she created for herself to ease her lunatic tendency of human experimentation. But this 'MF' has a horrible glaring weakness. She has stage fright. ------------ [Sometimes contain mature, triggering, gore, and questionable content. Read at your own direction] [Checking the Tags before reading is advised] ------------ The cover illustration belongs to its respective creator. ------------ Craving for more something less obscene but still with the same smart and interesting protagonist? Try my "Re: Tentacles System"!

Yokoyokai · แฟนตาซี
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263 Chs

Small Chattering Before The Dive

The cold glare became a meek deadpan. In her mind, Foel could see through both of their relationships as second nature. The Fiery Fire Of Molten Heart had evolved to the point where the tanomobi could see the affection level of someone.

Despite the skimpy clothing that Damascus wore, the tanomobi bore no ill intent as of now, although she had already prepared a slave formation she could immediately use in case of something escalating. For now, all that she cared about was her partner's state.

'I smell another woman,' Foel thought as she hid her grun, and that smell led to a person below the ground, unconscious as she was hit by a rock straight to the head. 'I didn't sense any strong feelings from Meshia towards that person, the same as the barbarian. That darkish-gray skinned person might just be an unlucky passerby.'