Yokoyokai

"What are the odds of gods for not putting me on the top? Screw it! Let's hatch a plot blacker than a kettle calling a pot!"

Enter MFX90! Preferred referral, MF!

Not that Mother******.

First letter: 'Messiah'!

Second letter: 'Father'! Why? Because you'll be calling her Daddy!—Despite choosing to stay female for psychological advantage to many heroes and transmigators along the way who find her scrumptious.

A poet who'd lull you with flowery words before crushing it. 

A psychologist where lies and truths are but the same as myth.

A strategist who controls the marionette like a pirouette.

And a devil who hates hubris to the core.

Living in a chaotic world with Usurpers and Angels trying to ram each other like batteries, with an ounce of stupidity faster than the reeling tape of misery.

That 'MF' is the exemplar of perfection! Because it will be impossible to defeat a cultivator with just a little tinker on her genes. Who would have thought that being able to harness the harness proved to be horrifyingly destructive?

This advocate of determination deem herself as a Skillionaire, collecting every knowledge and capabilities just to categorize them into 'Skill' within her brain. An internal system she created for herself to ease her lunatic tendency of human experimentation.

But this 'MF' has a horrible glaring weakness.

She has stage fright.

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[Sometimes contain mature, triggering, gore, and questionable content. Read at your own direction]

[Checking the Tags before reading is advised]

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The cover illustration belongs to its respective creator.

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Craving for more something less obscene but still with the same smart and interesting protagonist? Try my "Re: Tentacles System"!

Enter Me! The Skillionaire Says In Parentheses

While the uprising propaganda of a rising cult took place, MF got back to the center of Domeniul Ceresc where Anvriel was with a satisfied expression. 


And that satisfaction also came together with a huge relief of succeeding the barricading of her ballistic coping mechanism of being stared at by a group of more than ten living beings.


'Why has fate wanted me to make a lot of public speech lately? If I hadn't hurriedly simplified my grand 20 page script of speech within my brain, I would've attacked the ground with my unconscious head…'


It was a bliss that she managed to get a cold feet before stepping on hot stones.


"Whatever, it's time to play with Anvriel, I guess~"


The Power Of Dark Creation