I am the vicious supporting character in a novel.
Yet I have been forced to watch one transmigrator after another take over my body, throw away all dignity, and grovel before a little beast already rotten to the core, all because they dreamed of saving him.
They called it redeeming the villain—showing him the warmth and beauty of the world.
Without exception, every one of them was betrayed once the little beast rose to power, and every one died without an intact corpse.
Now the cycle has begun again.
I expected another laughable attempt at redemption, but this time, before the villain could grow into his power, the new transmigrator drove a blade straight through his heart.
Blood flecked her face, making her smile look dark and uncanny.
“I’d already made a mortal enemy of him, so why not kill him and end the threat for good?”
“This redemption game is painfully dull.”
