I'm Not Your Husband, You Evil Dragon! - Chapter 22: Soft Hands, Sharp Swords, and Dark Threats

[Reminder: Yuri, GL, Yandere, No NSFW, Only Wholesome Romance, Toxic Heroines, Slow Paced, Slow Romance, Slow Burn, Slow Harem.]“Damn it, why the hell am I the Villainess?”Petra, a human resources manager, just went through a painfully dumb breakup. To cope? She did what any sane woman would. Binge-read a guilty pleasure romance and smut novel series from her teenage years, only to realize that the heroines have brain-cell-deficiency.One way led to another, she wakes up as Verena D’Auvergne—a minor antagonist who turned out to be the ultimate villainess of the whole series after an incident. The very woman who stole all the love interests and died trying!“Forget the male leads, I have to make the heroines forgive me!”Can she, the ultimate villainess, capture the forgiveness of the very women she was meant to destroy? Or will the cursed System, and fate itself, force her to chase after love?

[Mc takes consent from Woman not their husband][Mc doesn't want to NTR every guy. He only makes their wife cheat for sex.][Making friend's mom fall......is one of his big dreams.]“I like married women and there are so many noble women out there...”A horny Otaku from Earth gets transmigrated as an old Viscount.His lifespan is depleting too quickly due to an injury.Fortunately, there is a Ying Yang technique which can increase his lifespan.“This man has been single for his whole life and never touched a woman? WTF!!” Otaku is shocked from the Viscount's dry life.“I do have the maids, right?”[MC likes married women][Netori, Cheating, Blackmail]

Amidst the eerie silence of an unfamiliar hall, a cacophony of confused voices rose, mingling in a chorus of bewilderment. “Where are we?” “What happened?” “I thought I died!” Each utterance hung in the air, a testament to the collective disbelief gripping the room.As the haze of confusion lifted, disjointed memories surfaced, fragments of lives cut short by tragedy. “I remember... I was stabbed...” ventured one voice, echoed by another's affirmation of a similar fate. “I... I died in a plane crash,” muttered a third, only to be met with a stunned agreement from a fellow survivor.Amidst the chaos of bewildered voices, one man stood apart, his expression a mask of contemplation amidst the turmoil. As his companions recounted their brushes with death, his mind churned with questions, each more confounding than the last.“I got shot... I remember it vividly,” he murmured to himself, his voice barely audible above the din. “So how am I still here?” The enigma of their shared resurrection gnawed at him, compelling him to seek answers in the depths of his memories.With each revelation of a paired demise—a male and female, bound by the same tragic fate—a flicker of recognition ignited within him. “This... this seems familiar,” he mused, the pieces of a puzzle slowly coalescing in his mind. But the picture remained incomplete, obscured by the fog of uncertainty that shrouded their surroundings.As the words “pairs, pairs, pairs” echoed in his mind like a cryptic mantra, a sudden realization struck him with the force of a revelation. “It can't be... don't tell me...” he whispered, his voice trembling with disbelief. With a sense of urgency, he began to scan his surroundings, searching for any sign or clue that could confirm his suspicions.Then, as if guided by an unseen force, his gaze shifted upwards, and there, bathed in an ethereal light, stood an angelic figure with golden apparel, its gaze fixed upon him with a warm smile. The sight took his breath away, filling him with a mixture of awe and trepidation.The man's heart raced as faced a real angel, his mind struggling to comprehend the surreal encounter unfolding before him. The angel's words, spoken with an air of amusement, only deepened the enigma shrouding their meeting.“I never expected anyone to notice me,” the angel remarked, a hint of playfulness in its voice. “I was concealing my presence to let everyone fully calm down, but to think someone noticed me. Just who are you?”Ethan's disbelief and confusion intensified at the angel's question. “Eh... Ethan Rivers,” he stammered, his voice barely above a whisper.As Aurelia, the angel, finally revealed himself to the bewildered assembly, a hush fell over the room, each soul drawn in by his radiant presence and commanding aura. Ethan's gaze lingered on Aurelia.“Greetings, lost souls,” Aurelia declared, his voice resonating with a majestic power that seemed to fill the very air around them. “I am Aurelia, and I shall be your guide to your new life.”As Aurelia extended his arms in a gesture of welcome, Ethan felt a surge of rage and hesitation, “This it bad, really bad.”

I struggled until I was thirty-eight and couldn’t afford a house. I had to pay a gift of three hundred thousand in advance to get married. I lived frugally and frugally for most of my life until my liver was broken. But where was the money? Who made the money?

Jiang Qin, who harbored countless grievances, was reborn at the age of eighteen. The only thought he had when he opened his eyes was to start a business and make money.

The first step is to snatch back the love letter you sent, turn it over, and write three lines in the school belle’s astonished eyes:

You can’t work for anything, and you can stay with a rich woman if you can.

You can make more money if you lose it, but you can make more money if you lose your conscience!

Social animals, never slaves!

As for love? Dogs don’t even talk about that stuff!

- Description from novelbuddy