MTL - Magneto of Hyuga - Chapter 169

[Reminder: Yuri, GL, Yandere, No NSFW, Only Wholesome Romance, Toxic Heroines, Slow Paced, Slow Romance, Slow Burn, Slow Harem.]“Damn it, why the hell am I the Villainess?”Petra, a human resources manager, just went through a painfully dumb breakup. To cope? She did what any sane woman would. Binge-read a guilty pleasure romance and smut novel series from her teenage years, only to realize that the heroines have brain-cell-deficiency.One way led to another, she wakes up as Verena D’Auvergne—a minor antagonist who turned out to be the ultimate villainess of the whole series after an incident. The very woman who stole all the love interests and died trying!“Forget the male leads, I have to make the heroines forgive me!”Can she, the ultimate villainess, capture the forgiveness of the very women she was meant to destroy? Or will the cursed System, and fate itself, force her to chase after love?

After traveling to Little Garden, Su Jin, who had just obtained the divine status and became a quasi-god, suddenly had a forum invitation in his eyes.

Butterfly Chanel Megumi: How to kill ghost dance at night? No misery?

Aizen Kuyousuke: How to take out the collapsed jade in Rukia Kuchiki?

….

Questions popped up one by one, and Su Jin subconsciously replied: Thank you for your invitation, people are in the small garden, they have just become gods, and the answers are anonymous.

- Description from novelbuddy

“What the fuck? What is going on? Have I completely lost it?”

As I stare panicky at the dot unable to decide what to do, the white dot disappears and a line of text appears in its place.

[Installing files. 1% done…]

As I watch the text in shock, the percentage gradually increases. […2%...3%...4%...]

I move to the living room in a zombie-like manner, too shocked to think clearly and lie down on the couch.

“Something is wrong with me; I think I finally lost my sanity…”

[…12%...13%...14%...]

Unable to affect the situation in the least, I stare dejectedly at the percentage increase, while my mind starts exploring the possible explanations. In the end, as the percentage hits 90%, I narrow it down to three possibilities.

The first possibility is that I am in fact still unconscious and this is all a product of my mind. I pinch myself and whimper at the pain, as in my nervousness I used almost all my strength.

Nope, the first is out.

The second possibility is that I have completely lost my mind and am suffering from delusions. Hmm, I cannot exclude this, but while possible, I don’t think that this is it. The only thing out of the ordinary is that fucking line of text.

The third possibility …

[Installation successful!]

The text disappears and a new message appears in my eyes…

The third possibility … is that I gained a system. I read the message with my mouth agape at the implications.

[Welcome user, to the Perverted Daddy System!]

Fuck…

Once upon a time, there was a makeup artist who possessed outstanding skills and top-notch aesthetic judgement. When he did makeup for various stars, he could embellish sharpness onto the smooth vases that lacked edges, and he could make models who exceeded the boundaries of aesthetics to appear delicate and soft, more approachable to people.

Male stars loved to request him, for he had a thorough understanding of masculine charm in particular, and the makeup he did was never garishly slathered in oils or powders, instead exuding a natural, dashing air of elegance.

Female stars loved to request him, because not only was he excellent in his skills, he was also everyone’s closest confidant; when they chatted, he could easily hold any conversation, and his mouth would be tightly sealed, never allowing anyone’s privacy to slip out.

Although this person was quite young, after getting by in the makeup industry the past few years, he was virtually considered as a distinguished personality in his profession, and would be referred to as a ‘master’ wherever he went.

But he had a terrifying secret. He needed to carefully tread on thin ice and couldn’t expose even the slightest traces; otherwise, nobody would invite him to work ever again, and nobody would apply to the classes he led anymore.

—He was a straight man.

- Description from Novelupdates