Chapter 11: Huh? This isn’t there?

“Unnie? Your face is really red right now.”

“Huh? Oh, it’s nothing.”

Eating and chatting with Ji Yoon, time slipped into the night. Exhausted and ready to sleep, Ji Yoon clung to me, making me feel uncomfortably smothered.

“Ugh… No way, I’ll sleep on the floor.”

“It’s a queen-size bed, and you’re sleeping on the floor? Are you out of your mind, Unnie?”

“Sorry, can you give me a bit of space?”

Swallowing how overwhelming it felt, I turned away from her. Ji Yoon started giggling mischievously.

“Hmm… So Unnie has this side to her~?”

“No.”

If I stayed awake, she’d keep teasing, so I ignored her and pretended to sleep. Watching me, Ji Yoon spoke in a dumbfounded tone.

“What? Unnie, you’re already asleep?”

She paused, seeming to think, then gently touched my hair and continued.

“Well… You must be exhausted. And it’s not the kind that goes away easily.”

Pat pat.

“So dry… How much did you suffer? But from now on, I’m here, so it’ll be easier. Let’s live happily, okay?”

Her words were full of questions, but I could tell she was genuinely worried. Is this what it feels like to be cared for? I cautiously recalled my past life.

‘Hey, I’m really sick today. Can you do the dishes for me?’

‘How do you look sick? Mom! Oppa’s faking to skip dishes again!’

‘Ugh… Damn it. I’m really sick.’

And then,

‘Cough… I feel like I’m dying… Why this sudden flu… Cough…’

‘Mom! Oppa’s coughing! Is he actually sick this time?’

‘Leave him. No fever, so he’s probably acting for something.’

‘Oh, like when I was sick and Mom got me what I wanted? Wow, Oppa’s such a bad actor…’

“…Damn it.”

Every memory was awful. Why did I never get a shred of sympathy, even from family? Especially my past-life sister—she was the worst.

The reason my current sister feels overwhelming is she’s the complete opposite. Unlike the old one who constantly annoyed me, this one clearly cares.

Confirming she was asleep, I quietly sat up and gently patted her.

“You’re pretty and cute like this.”

Similar to me but with glossy brown hair and dark eyes, unlike my blue ones. Watching her sleep, pure yet charming, I sighed softly.

“You really don’t need to care so much.”

Seeing her stir, perhaps from a nightmare, I patted her a bit more and went to bed.

The next day.

“Unnie! Stay healthy while I’m gone! If you’re sick, go to the hospital or call me!”

“Don’t worry.”

Ji Yoon lingered at the door for 15 minutes, reluctant to leave.

“Go already. I need to sleep…”

“Don’t you like me, Unnie?”

“No, my legs are just hurting.”

Standing and arguing for nearly 15 minutes made my tired body ache, legs included.

“S-Sorry! I’ll go!”

She apologized and rushed out. I dragged my sore legs to my laptop.

“Is being worried about always a good thing?”

Reflecting, it was definitely better than the indifference and deception of my past life.

“Let’s see what kind of novels exist in this world.”

Spending nearly seven hours browsing top-performing novels on a site, I noticed something odd.

“…No villain stories.”

Every novel followed a strict good-triumphs-over-evil formula. Fantasy, martial arts—every genre ended the same, with no stories starring villains.

“What kind of world is this? Maybe I should check drafts or practice works.”

Spending another two or three hours scouring, I found no villain-led stories.

“Decided. I’m writing a villain story. Even with my terrible writing, this will hit.”

Recalling the most brutal villain story I’d read, I carefully wrote, borrowing expressions from that author.

Plagiarism? Don’t make me laugh.

In this world, I’m the original.

—

“Any fun novels out there?”

A reader, as always, searched for something interesting.

Every novel felt the same. Heroes kill demon kings, martial lords defeat evil masters, heroes subdue villains. In romance, villainesses always die.

It was too predictable. Good writing made clichés bearable, but I was sick of them and craved something that broke the mold.

“Not like I’d write one myself.”

Flipping through new releases, a title caught my eye.

“Oh, what’s this?”

The Villain Wreaks Havoc.

The title was perfect clickbait. I cautiously clicked.

Favorites: 2,700 | Alerts: 450 | Chapter 1 / Views: 5,400

“What did they do to get these numbers on chapter one?”

Drawn by the stats and title, I clicked chapter one and entered a new world.

“A criminal kills a cop? And these brutal descriptions? Where did this come from?”

Five years reading novels, and I’d never seen such gruesome expressions. The crimes in chapter one were unimaginable.

This writer isn’t just a criminal—they’ve lived it. This level of detail screams experience.

“One of those top-tier criminals? Why do this…?”

Showing off?

Maybe self-aggrandizement. Writing their own crimes into a novel—so vicious. But…

“This is… too good. A story from the criminal’s perspective…”

The writing wasn’t great, honestly. But the depiction of crime was scarily vivid, and the charm made me crave the next chapter.

Another reader hit favorite, recommended, and left a comment.

[Next chapter.]

—

“Done.”

Even while writing, my skills felt lacking. Too long since I last wrote? My already bad writing stood out.

“Being a novelist isn’t easy… That guy was something else.”

I recalled the most memorable villain story I’d read. Despite its poor reception and fading into obscurity, the author’s expressions were so real, they stunned me.

“They didn’t actually experience that, right? No way.”

Who knows? Those descriptions were so shocking, I still remember most of them. Dismemberment and gore were standard.

“Does this trigger a penalty? There was a clause about not using past-life knowledge.”

[That’s more imagination than knowledge. There’s some leeway.]

“What about saying I was a man?”

[That violates clause one, not three. Of course, it triggers a penalty. Be careful—do you know how much the penalties have stacked?]

“Ugh, I lived as a man for 35 years and as a woman for barely ten days. People make mistakes.”

Every shower feels empty down there. Never even got to use it, damn it.

[I told you I’d give you a chance to reconsider.]

“Isn’t this a scam contract?”

[What scam contract only benefits the scammed?]

Silenced by the god’s rebuke, I quietly resumed writing.

“Time for chapter one? I wrote the prologue, so I should do chapter one. Five favorites would be nice.”

Checking my work’s stats, I saw something unbelievable.

<Favorites: 670>

“…Did I read that wrong?”

<Refresh>

Favorites: 720.

“What? Something’s off. A system error? The zero must be a mistake.”

Even 72 favorites wouldn’t give me courage to continue, so I closed the laptop.

“Let’s get water. That’ll calm me down.”

Sipping cold water, praying it wasn’t a dream, I reopened the laptop and faced reality.

Favorites: 1,100.

“…This means I can live a happy stay-at-home life, right?”

See that, author? Your expressions are top-tier here.

Smiling unconsciously, I mentally thanked the original writer.

“Let’s check the comments.”

Eagerly diving in, I regretted it.

– Is this something a normal person could think up?

– Author, are you a wanted criminal? How does a regular brain come up with this?

– It’s experience, right? Admit it’s experience… This is wild.

Those were the mild ones.

– Wasn’t there a wanted criminal like this? Who was it?

– I can’t recall, who was it?

Some outright labeled me a top-tier criminal.

“Was it that impactful?”

The crime descriptions were vivid, sure, but I didn’t expect this reaction.

Overwhelmed with happiness, I smiled softly and started the next chapter.