MTL - If You Keep Blowing It Up, I’ll Be Truly Invincible - Chapter 37 May I ask which monk is not greedy? [Please follow up! 】

This story unfolds during the later stages of World War II, where a man, scarred by the horrors of war, finally grasps the profound and harsh realities of the world. In this world, those at the top laugh and celebrate, while those at the bottom sacrifice their lives in futile conflicts driven by pride and meaningless ambition.A modern soul transmigrates and fuses with the original soul of a body, creating a unique and extraordinary existence. To some, he is a villain; to others, a madman.In a world steeped in cruelty, this man, determined to secure a place among the decision-makers, struggles to break free from the ranks of those powerless to control their fate. To achieve his goal, he resolves to shatter the chains of law, then the chains of morality, and finally the chains of mediocrity.

On what basis is a golden finger or a new life a must once you transmigrate? On what basis should a transmigrated cannon fodder definitely counterattack?

Is peacefully staying as a cannon fodder too much to ask for? Why come out and wreck everything, Slags….. The Male Lead is dead because of you, the world is even collapsing, okay?!

In order to earn Points, every time she enters a new world, Xia Liang expresses that she completes her missions very seriously, face slapping those secondary female characters who wish to counterattack, setting order to all the chaos, restoring the plot, and avoiding the collapse of the worlds.

As for why the Male Leads all fell in love with me, that was actually an accident. Em, it’s just, aren’t these accidents a little bit too many…

- Description from Novelupdates

In an era when the power of Fire Magic was considered to have reached its limit, one girl began researching nuclear fusion.

It was understood that this was a capitalist country, where the possession of the greatest amount of capital determined to whom the nation effectively belonged.The smile that had been resting on William Sheffield’s face was abruptly erased as his expression turned cold. In a tone laced with determination, it was demanded by him that the police be contacted immediately so that they could crush those who stood in their way. The reasoning behind his words seemed clear: if such actions had been taken before by someone like Rockefeller, then why should it not also be possible for Sheffield?A sense of irony hung in the air as the sentiment was expressed—this was America, where each day seemed to unfold as though it were part of an ongoing shootout, with battles fought not just with guns but with power, influence, and wealth.