MTL - 100k Volts Electrocutes You to Death - Chapter 125

Su Yu died of alcohol poisoning on the day she received the actress trophy she was thinking of.
Then she was found by a stupid system.
System: Join the Women’s Match League! Enter all the worlds to complete tasks, and I can make you reach the pinnacle of your life!
Su Yu: But I was already at the peak of my life, so I quit!
Even if she was reluctant, Su Yu entered the world in order to survive.
first world
The task assigned to her by the system: take everything from the male protagonist!
Su Yu robbed his fans and his money, and finally looked at the fair girl and fell silent.
Su Yu asked in embarrassment: Do you want to grab this too?
System: Grab!
second world
Looking at the familiar girl, Su Yu rubbed her brows, “Are you still robbing?”
System: Grab!
Su Yu: Would you say anything else?
System: Go!
loop*
Nth world
Su Yu habitually wanted to continue grabbing, but suddenly found that this time the girl had a memory.
System: Grab! Go!
Su Yu shrugged: Run!

The first world: the entertainment industry
Flirting without knowing it
The second world: giants
White Lotus scheming fake princess X arrogant and domineering eldest
The Third World: Campus
Vocational high school brawler X key high school three good students / first grade
The Fourth World: The Republic of China
A Song of Allure Peerless Famous Actor X Jingui Self-Professional Rich Miss
The Fifth World: The West
Paranoid Vampire Duke x White and Soft Human Girl
The Sixth World: Antiquity
Bai Yueguang soft bag queen x evil concubine
The seventh world: Immortal king with few desires x apprentice who wants to climb the bed

Content tags: Soft love system sweet text fast wear
Search keywords: Protagonist: Su Yu ┃ Supporting role: Huo Shu ┃ Others:

- Description from novelbuddy

A scientist, Duan Yixin, transmigrated into another world. She possessed the body of a sixteen-year-old girl but had not inherited any of her memories. With a broken marriage engagement and no money in her hand, she only wants to earn money peacefully. It's a pity that fate always plays tricks on people.When she thought she could finally live peacefully, she discovered that this world was not as simple as she thought. The man she rescued was the notorious ruthless general, and the woman who stole her ex-fiancé was the female protagonist of this world.She looked up at the sky and asked, “God, are you kidding me?”A few years later, on their wedding night, she stared at him and said seriously, “General, I'm not your white moonlight.”The man lowered his head and whispered in her ear, “Mhm, you are not my white moonlight, you are my life.”

The fake daughter was spoiled by her elder brother and parents, but she, the real daughter, was disgusted to death and scolded as trash, she endured it… But what happened this time? After the rebirth cycle, the eldest brother who hated her the most hugged her and said that he loves her. Is she his only sister? Several other elder brothers sent the most expensive gifts one after another, just begging her to take a second look? This plot is not right?

Brothers:

“Yanyan, do you eat candy? Big Brother bought it for you all over the country and put it in a candy house.”

“Yanyan, do you like this house? The second brother bought dozens of houses for you.”

“Yanyan, the third brother of the playground has been transferred to your name.”

“Yanyan, my brother will take you to debut at C position.”

Gu Yan: “…” (Help! She really wants to do the task in a low-key manner!)

- Description from novelbuddy

“Villains aren’t born, they’re made...blah...blah...”Cute quote. Stick it on your Tumblr header next to your anime pfp.You boys love your villain stories, don’t you?You want carnage. Chaos. Control. You want a dark throne, a cold smirk, and a woman kneeling at your feet begging for mercy.But you?You don’t want to lift a damn finger.You’ll cheer for the villain as he kills a god, but cry when he gets betrayed.You call it “plot armor” when the hero survives—but call it “art” when the villain does the impossible.You’re not fans of villains.You’re fetishists.You want the violence, but not the silence after it.You want domination, but not the burden of being hated.You want power, but only if the story forgives you for it.You don’t read these stories to understand evil.You read them because you think you're too good to win the normal way.“Villains don’t play fair.”Exactly. That’s why you love them.Because you wouldn’t last a day in a world where strength mattered and excuses didn’t.You don’t want a villain’s life.You want his results.You want to watch him burn the world for a woman.But you’d cry if a girl left you on read.So tell me—What exactly are you rooting for?At least unlike you, I support heroes—the ones with boobs.You know the type.Tits squeezed into latex, thighs tight in spandex, preaching virtue with cum-drunk eyes the moment they fall into my arms but always end up screaming my name instead.She flies above cities, saving lives like it’s her job.But at night? She crashes into my arms, trembling, moaning, clawing at my back like I’m the only real thing she’s ever touched.Her cape drops before her guard does.But I don't need to tear it off.She hands it over herself—bit by bit, kiss by kiss, lie by beautiful lie.You ever felt a heroine's breath hitch in your ear as she begs you to stop pretending you're the bad guy?Ever watched the symbol of hope ride you like you're the last man left after the world ended?That's not conquest.That’s devotion, baby.Unfiltered. Undeniable.And the irony?They fall the hardest.Because no villain ever tried to understand them. No hero ever dared to see past the shine and into the ache beneath.But I do.I whisper into the cracks of their perfection.I plant kisses where they hide their pain.I fuck them where they forget to wear their strength.And when they break—when their moans turn to prayers, when their strength melts into submission—That’s when I rise.I’m not just some brooding misfit out for revenge, or a misunderstood loner sitting around hoping for a shot at redemption.I’m not a villain.I’m the SUPERVILLAIN—the kind your heroines moan for when the cameras are off and the capes are crumpled on my floor.