MTL - Don’t Be Jealous, I Will Bend Myself - Chapter 38 Fairy doll x pretty nun (three)

Fate is weird. Of all the people in the world, why would it select me to send to a different world?

And what is it trying to do? Put up a show by giving me a system? But oh well, what do I care.

The previous owner of this body was a cripple and looked down on, but now I can slap their faces with my system.

Young masters? Get out of my way!

Princes? Geniuses? Oh please. I have a system. That does not mean anything to me.

I know that I am not the greatest. But fate gave me a cheat system, and I am not wasting it.

I am going to do whatever it takes to conquer this world. Fate forced me to do this. It isn’t my fault if I cause some ruin on the way.

Growth cheats? Infinite magic power? The ability to utilize all archetypes? What’s the point if instant death ends everything with a single attack?

High school senior Yogiri Takatou was on a school field trip when he woke up to a dragon assaulting his sightseeing bus, with the only ones still on the bus being him and his female classmate, the panicking Tomochika Dannoura. Apparently the rest of his classmates had been given special powers by Sion, a woman who introduced herself as Sage, and escaped from the dragon, leaving those that hadn’t received any special powers behind as dragon bait.

And so Yogiri was thrown into a parallel universe full of danger, with no idea of what just happened. Likewise, Sion had no way of knowing just what kind of being she had summoned to her world.

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.”