Quick Transmigration Homewrecker System

After entering a horror game, I, Anastasia Moreau, begin dating the big boss. At our first meeting, I wrap my arms around his sleek, serpentine body and squeeze him into a corner of the coffin. "Move over, move over." In the next instant, a strikingly handsome young man with white hair and golden eyes appears beneath me. The tips of his ears flush red as he glares at me. "You… You're lying on my hair!" he grits out.

The day Kris Flynn forced me to sign the divorce papers, a self-destruction system wired itself into my brain. The system ordered, [Slap him hard. Then, tell him to get out.] It startled me. Kris was ruthless by nature. If I dared to get in the way of him getting back together with his first love, he would make my life a living hell. Unfortunately, the system threatened me. [If you don’t start sabotaging your life this instant, you’ll die right now.] Without any choice, I slapped him. Fear overtook me as soon as I did it. I bolted straight out of the house. Then, the system gave me a command to smash a police car by the roadside. I was convinced the system was trying to get me killed. However, after I shattered the police car’s side mirror, I realized something. It was not my life that the system wanted me to ruin.

The day that I divorced my third husband, the system told me that I had completely failed my mission. I had married three times in this world and they were all targets that were supposed to fall for me. But every single one of them chose to divorce me because of Wendy Somerfield. The system pitied me for doing my best for the past 30 years, so it asked me to target my son. It said that if my son could confidently choose me, between me and Wendy, then I could live. However, it was no exception that the son I gave birth to after 40 weeks of pregnancy chose Wendy, just like my three ex-husbands. They all even pinned the cause of Wendy's illness on me. My first husband, who was my childhood sweetheart, pretended to be softhearted, but he was actually ruthless. He actually tried to convince me to donate one of my kidneys to Wendy. My second husband, who I met on a blind date, used a scalpel to personally cut open my body. My third husband, who I fell in love with at first sight, even threatened me with my son. While spitting out blood from my mouth, I agreed to their requests with a smile. However, when they saw me being pushed out of the operating room, those people who turned their backs on me went crazy.

My mother was the villainess of a story. When I was born, the story came to its end. In the past, she was a rich heiress who drowned herself in luxury and pleasure. At present, everyone condemned her and spat in her path. After my father, the male lead of the story, betrayed her, her family went bankrupt. She knew nothing and had no skills, but for me, she was willing to learn from scratch.

From the time I was little, something in me was always a little off—I never listened to the whole story, only half of it. My grandmother called me a good-for-nothing who was financially burdening the family. She bought a little boy to be my younger brother and told me to take good care of him. I understood the part about buying a child, so I immediately called the police and reported her for illegal human trafficking. My father pointed at my face and cursed me for being unfilial, accusing me of cutting off his family line. I obeyed him, crept into his room while he slept that night, and used a knife to "cut off his lineage." My father screamed in agony. In the chaos, he accidentally killed me. When I opened my eyes again, I had transmigrated into the female lead of a melodramatic abuse novel. After ten years of marriage to the cruel male lead, his childhood sweetheart had just returned from abroad and was undergoing kidney surgery. He dragged me to the hospital and cruelly ordered me to donate a kidney to his precious first love. I nodded obediently, went out and bought a pig, and on the spot dug out the pig's kidney and handed it to him.

Three years after my death, my wife’s first love was hanging onto life by a thread, and only my system could save him. To force me to show up, she cut off my father’s medical payments. My sick mother was forced to beg her out in the summer heat until she collapsed. She even threw my beloved little sister into a bonfire to be eaten up by the flames. As she waited for me to show up, apologize to her, and use the system to save her first love, my sister finally stopped hiding the truth. “He died three years ago! Three years ago, he traded his life so you would survive that car crash!”

I transmigrated into a dating-sim otome game where I was supposed to romance a soft, fragile male lead. I had finally pushed him onto the bed and was just about to make my move when the long-missing system finally popped back online. [Host, I sent you to the wrong game. This is a horror game.] [The man you’re bullying right now is the horror game final boss.] I lifted my head and met a pair of blood-red eyes staring straight at me. My smile froze. “Um… you look a little tired. Maybe we should… continue this another day?” He smiled back, calm and terrifying. “I’m not tired. Go on.”

Silas Jordan drew lots, which resulted in me being chosen as his wife. He hated me for getting his childhood sweetheart killed. Hence, he tortured me to death. But after I died, deep remorse overwhelmed him. After I returned to the past, I first rigged the lottery to help him get together with his childhood lover. However, there were endless new comments on the screen. They were from readers of the novel I was trapped in. [Based on the plot, the male lead will pick the female lead. Then, the male lead’s childhood lover will kill herself. When the female lead gets tortured to death, the male lead starts regretting it. But why would this miserable novel change when the female lead rigged the lottery?] It was because I no longer wished to marry him again.

After my cold, distant husband returned from overseas, his personality completely changed. Every night, he kept me up until dawn. The man who had been too busy to even touch me during our three years of marriage suddenly became obsessed with my body. I thought it was just that absence made the heart grow fonder, but then strange pop-up comments appeared in front of me. [I can't wait to see the male lead, Trevor Blackwell, lose his mind when he gets back in a month and finds out someone is sleeping with his wife.] My blood ran cold. Trevor was my husband. If he had not come back yet, then who was this man in front of me who looked exactly like him?

After failing a bomb disposal mission, my wife, who's also a bomb disposal expert, gives my shield to her true love. I grab her hand and plead with her not to do it, but she shoves me away. "You're so selfish! You have a system that can revive you—why do you even need the shield? Jeremy is already weak, to begin with. He can't handle any impact and needs two shields to keep him safe!" She doesn't know that the system has only given me two chances to be revived. I used the first chance when she begged me to save Jeremy Sawyer. During a mission last year, I used the second chance to save her from the brink of death. It looks like I'm going to die today.