Harem Master: Seduction System - Chapter 252: Price Of Power For Lady Ondine

The day the apocalypse arrived, Su Mo got utterly chilled by a meteorite fragment.When she woke up, the enchanting young man upstairs asked her, “Do you have a superpower?”“I do!” She silently pulled out a Flat Pot.While being teased, the villain arrogantly put his hands on his hips and said, “You're just a powerless waste.”“Heh,” she said, and with the Flat Pot, she turned his face into a pig's head.Bound to the strongest Cooking God system and dare to call her waste? She could smash your face in a minute.The Arrogant Chapter“My tea, one sip and superpower durability becomes endless.”“My meat, one piece and superpower lethality doubles.”“My dish, one plate guarantees you level up.”“But can you afford them?”

On the server “Altar,” a high-class survival game was officially launched. Survival was the only logic in the human game of alliance, betrayal, and human-natured games of deceit and treachery. After the smoke of gunpowder ends, only the survivors can speak.

As soon as he opened his eyes, the amnesiac An Wujiu saw a person at his side killed. While in confusion, a floating green typeface appeared before him.

Variable Name: An Wujiu
Attributes: Male, 20 years old
Game Rounds: 5
Win Rate: 100/100
Danger Rank: SSS

No wonder they were afraid.

The first time he saw An Wujiu, Shen Ti felt curious. The kindness and fragility in those eyes were not fake, so how could he survive in the Altar? It was until he saw the man had a sudden personality change. He recklessly gambled regardless of the cost, casually estranged people, grew further excited on the verge of death, and even calculated against himself to win. Only then did Shen Ti realize that it was his own cognitive bias.

Fortunately, he wasn’t a normal person either.

- Description from Novelupdates

At nineteen, Dexter was already one of the world’s most celebrated authors. His books topped charts. Critics praised his genius. Fans devoured every word. But behind the acclaim was a lonely boy—raised without parents, love, or real friends—just stories.He published his first novel at fourteen. By seventeen, he was a literary star. But the higher he rose, the hollower it felt.Then came the writer’s block. The headaches. The blackout. And the transmigration.Dexter awoke in the body of Daylan, a disgraced young man in a crumbling, medieval world laced with steampunk tech, divine law, and political unrest. Daylan had already failed two of the three sacred Trials—rites that determine one’s magical potential. He was drowning in debt, entangled in plots to overthrow a corrupt Divine Church, and branded a lost cause.With no way back, Dexter took the final Trial—the most brutal of them all—and began a path that would earn him the whispered title: Soldier, Poet, King.But as his powers grew, one question haunted him: Did he truly die? And if so, who—or what—chose to bring him back?

I became the fiancé of the tyrant male lead, a character who becomes a villainess because she was obsessed with the beautiful tyrant.

Of course, in the end, she was killed by the tyrant.

Still, this all happened before the original story began.

After diligently performing a dozen or so actions that would cause me to be dumped by him, I succeeded in becoming a sound friend of the tyrant, who turned out better than I had thought.

“How was it?” asked the female lead, who he saw for the first time.

“Hmm?”

“I meant your meeting with Miss Diel (female lead), Your Majesty.”

He tilted his head slightly. Hey, don’t pretend you aren’t interested.

It is said that he fell in love at first sight, but I saw it all.

Hehe. I chuckled and poked his arm with my finger.

“You know what? Please let me know if you have someone you like.”

“Why? So you can kill her?”

Heh, do you think I’m like you?

I smiled sincerely and answered him. “Well, I’ll break off our engagement at the right time.”

“Miss.”

The smile on his face disappeared in an instant.

I somehow became speechless after my gaze met his glaring eyes.

He stared at me and laughed quietly in a slightly husky voice. In a subdued voice, he then said, “Don’t make a joke like that.”

His hand stealthily and gently brushed off the strand of hair on my cheek.