I Have Yet to Become a Doll Today - Chapter 473 - : Suddenly Getting Angry

My GPA is lower than a slime’s mana.My name is Atheron il Ataraxia, and I’m the walking disgrace of the Royal Academy of Magic.I’ve been held back twice, my essays are used in class as examples of how not to cast spells, and professors sigh in relief when I don’t blow something up during morning lectures.Truth is? I don’t even like this world.I was summoned. A girl from this world pulled me in like a card from a cursed deck, and now I’m stuck living here. Attending classes, battling evil spirits, and dealing with stuck-up nobles whose names are longer than my backstory.But something’s off. My mana doesn’t behave like theirs. The world listens when I speak. And the whispers I hear at night? They’re getting louder.They say evil spirits wander through Ashgrad under the light of the moon. And I think they’re looking for me.They think I’m a failure.Maybe I am.But if this cursed academy wants to survive the next full moon, they might just have to rely on me — the last-ranked summon with a dangerous secret.

Honjou Kaede was invited by her friend, Shiromine Risa to play a VRMMO.

The day she transmigrated it, she was already the wife of two men. She later became the Queen of the country. Her life has been cherished by seven men.

- Description from Novelupdates

An Yin, a delicate beauty caught in a risky charade, pretends to date playboy Bo Cheng to escape her troubles—until she meets his brother, ​Bo Shaojin: the ruthless, untouchable CEO whose icy dominance rules both boardrooms and high society.Their first encounter crackles with sizzling tension. Shaojin’s piercing gaze lingers on An Yin, his brother’s “girlfriend,” as she trembles under his scrutiny. But when their paths collide again—her, half-dressed and panic-stricken in his bathroom; him, a storm of restraint and hunger—the line between duty and desire shatters.As An Yin’s fake relationship unravels, Shaojin’s ironclad control dissolves. Drunk on obsession, he corners her in a midnight confession, his hardened facade crumbling as he vows, “I won’t touch you…” But his hands whisper promises his words deny.