My Idle System - Chapter 44: Annabelle’s Choice (1)

What should I do if my ex-boyfriend is in a relationship with a wealthy widow and wants to accompany her to a baby show, acting like a loving father and a filial son?

Qu Ning transformed into the aunt of her ex-boyfriend and took her stepson to the baby show together.

When the variety show starts airing, other parents prepare delicious food for their children every day, but the ex-boyfriend’s family’s food is different.

Qu Ning: “Son, please be self-reliant.”

Other parents raise their children in a fancy and joyful way, but my ex-boyfriend’s family sets a model worker standard.

Qu Ning: “Son, just stay alive.”

–

At first, the stepson didn’t like Qu Ning and called her a vicious stepmother.

Later, Qu Ning said, “I count to three,” and the stepson obediently called Mom.

The audience couldn’t stand it: [Qu Ning is too fierce and terrifying. ]

The stepson learned to surf the Internet overnight: “Don’t meddle in other people’s business, this is what I do.” ]

No one expected that Qu Ning’s method of raising a baby in reverse would become popular all over the Internet, and various interview invitations came one after another.

The ex-boyfriend was envious and resentful: “Qu Ning, do you think it’s really easy to get into a wealthy family? As a stepmother, you will soon be the end of the line.”

Qu Ning smiled half-heartedly: “You must be the stepfather, but I may not be the stepmother.”

Ex-boyfriend:? ?

[Entertainment Circle, Variety Shows with Children, Marriage First, Love Later 1V1]

- Description from novelbuddy

The female lead tormented scum without rest, and the male lead showered her with endless affection.Returning to the turning point of fate, she was determined to strike the supreme with her fists and kick the trash underfoot.Those who had once wronged her, deceived her, and taken advantage of her, brace yourselves for trembling!Watch him and her: not wasting their prime years, hand in hand, they compose a grand wedding!

When I came to, I woke up as fully loaded with death flags Villainess.

I finally got reborn with a healthy body, so I will live in happiness!

First, I’m thinking of improving my relationship with the family to systematically crush the death flags.

Called the Saint of Meat, Shrine Maiden, Savior, and even Goddess, her titles keep pointlessly increasing!

“Villains aren’t born, they’re made...blah...blah...”Cute quote. Stick it on your Tumblr header next to your anime pfp.You boys love your villain stories, don’t you?You want carnage. Chaos. Control. You want a dark throne, a cold smirk, and a woman kneeling at your feet begging for mercy.But you?You don’t want to lift a damn finger.You’ll cheer for the villain as he kills a god, but cry when he gets betrayed.You call it “plot armor” when the hero survives—but call it “art” when the villain does the impossible.You’re not fans of villains.You’re fetishists.You want the violence, but not the silence after it.You want domination, but not the burden of being hated.You want power, but only if the story forgives you for it.You don’t read these stories to understand evil.You read them because you think you're too good to win the normal way.“Villains don’t play fair.”Exactly. That’s why you love them.Because you wouldn’t last a day in a world where strength mattered and excuses didn’t.You don’t want a villain’s life.You want his results.You want to watch him burn the world for a woman.But you’d cry if a girl left you on read.So tell me—What exactly are you rooting for?At least unlike you, I support heroes—the ones with boobs.You know the type.Tits squeezed into latex, thighs tight in spandex, preaching virtue with cum-drunk eyes the moment they fall into my arms but always end up screaming my name instead.She flies above cities, saving lives like it’s her job.But at night? She crashes into my arms, trembling, moaning, clawing at my back like I’m the only real thing she’s ever touched.Her cape drops before her guard does.But I don't need to tear it off.She hands it over herself—bit by bit, kiss by kiss, lie by beautiful lie.You ever felt a heroine's breath hitch in your ear as she begs you to stop pretending you're the bad guy?Ever watched the symbol of hope ride you like you're the last man left after the world ended?That's not conquest.That’s devotion, baby.Unfiltered. Undeniable.And the irony?They fall the hardest.Because no villain ever tried to understand them. No hero ever dared to see past the shine and into the ache beneath.But I do.I whisper into the cracks of their perfection.I plant kisses where they hide their pain.I fuck them where they forget to wear their strength.And when they break—when their moans turn to prayers, when their strength melts into submission—That’s when I rise.I’m not just some brooding misfit out for revenge, or a misunderstood loner sitting around hoping for a shot at redemption.I’m not a villain.I’m the SUPERVILLAIN—the kind your heroines moan for when the cameras are off and the capes are crumpled on my floor.