MTL - The Vicious Female Supporting Role is So Tired [Quick Transmigration] - Chapter 67 Evil Flower Picker⑦

In her previous life, she wrongly loved a scumbag, but was killed by him. Once reborn, she vowed to let him be forever.

On the day of the wedding, the director got married by mistake as soon as she got out of the sedan chair, but she didn’t want to leave the wolf’s den and enter the tiger’s den again.

“If you enter this king’s door, you will belong to this king.” He swore domineeringly, declaring his ownership of her.

“Concubine Ai, this king has no children yet, so the important task of inheriting the lineage can be left to you.” She bet on her innocence, he helped her to avenge her, and each got the good deal they needed, but in the end, it turned out to be a fake.

Do, make it real?

- Description from novelbuddy

Nessa was transported into a new and completely unfamiliar world where monsters roamed free and survival of the fittest was the supreme rule for the majority of them. In this world, which was beautiful yet dark and cruel, she was given an opportunity.An opportunity to build her own nation after becoming the leader of a few peculiar monsters.Will she be able to overcome those who oppose her, threaten what she is creating, and demonstrate her power to the world in order to achieve peace and acceptance, or will her efforts in this world be futile?[System notifies]Come join Nessa and a few kind souls on their journey to create a nation where monsters, humans, and other creatures can coexist and live happily.

I had finally done it—achieved the ultimate Paladin build. Maxed stats, impenetrable armor, and so many resistances that death itself had given up on me. I was an unkillable tank, an indomitable force. Nothing could stop me.And then my PC exploded.I died.Irony, thou art a cruel mistress.But instead of the afterlife, I woke up as my Paladin character… in the wrong freaking genre. Instead of castles and dungeons, there were people flying around on swords, shooting qi beams like fantasy laser guns.“This is definitely the wrong genre,” I muttered, watching a pompous young master sneer at me.“Kowtow, kiss my foot, and beg for forgiveness!” he declared.I looked at my imaginary maxed-out health bar, then at his flimsy silk robes.Oh, this was going to be fun.