Surviving In This Filthy World As A Novel Villain

Alex was just an ordinary 20-year-old college dropout stuck in the monotony of a dead-end job. His life was far from glamorous, working long shifts at a convenience store to make ends meet, living in a cramped apartment with peeling wallpaper, and spending his free time reading novels and gaming.

Novels had become his lifeline, a temporary escape from his mundane reality. He devoured countless stories of overpowered protagonists, magical worlds, and cunning villains. It wasn't just entertainment; it was a way to forget about the stack of unpaid bills on his kitchen counter and the calls from his landlord demanding overdue rent.

One of the novels he was reading kow was A Cheesy Novel of bashing and villains getting faceslapping. It was cliché, filled with stereotypical characters, a cold-hearted heroine, an arrogant plot armor protagonist, and green tea heroines. 

But it was Alex's guilty pleasure. He loved hating the overbearing antagonist, a spineless simp who threw away his company and everything for the affections of the manipulative heroine, only to meet a tragic end.

"What an idiot," Alex often muttered to himself while reading. "If it were me, I'd never fall for a woman like that. Who sacrifices everything for someone so fake?"

But in truth, he envied the drama and excitement of those fictional worlds. His real life was devoid of meaning or ambition. He had no close family, no friends to rely on, and no dreams to chase.

One particularly exhausting evening, after finishing a double shift at the convenience store, Alex stumbled back to his apartment. He collapsed onto his worn-out couch with a groan, his head pounding from lack of sleep.

Turning on his old laptop, he opened the latest chapter of the already mentioned cheesy and cliché novel. 

"Seriously, how do you mess up a life this good?" he muttered, shaking his head. "The guy had money, power, everything. If I were him, I'd be unstoppable."

He leaned back, staring at the ceiling. A thought struck him, one he'd had countless times before.

"If only life were like a novel… maybe I'd get a second chance to do things right."

Little did he know, the universe, or fate, had heard his wish.

That night, as Alex drifted off to sleep, an intense wave of dizziness washed over him. His chest tightened, and his breathing grew shallow. Panic set in, but before he could fully process what was happening, everything went black.

When he opened his eyes, he was no longer in his tiny apartment.

The stale smell of instant noodles and the hum of the city were gone, replaced by the leather interior of an expensive car and the faint scent of cologne.

Looking down, Alex noticed his hands, clean, manicured, and unfamiliar. A sleek black card rested between his fingers.

His reflection in the rearview mirror wasn't his own. It was someone else entirely, a handsome, polished face he'd only ever seen in the pages like in those drama's.

"Alex," Rose Winters said, her tone sharp and dismissive, "listen closely…" Rose's voice was as cold as the winter wind cutting through the luxury shopping mall's parking lot. Her sharp tone carried an air of disdain that made Alex's grip on the steering wheel tighten slightly.

"It was because you begged my parents… that's the only reason I agreed to come out with you." Rose's voice was sharp and unyielding, her piercing gaze locking onto Alex as if daring him to argue. Her eyes, cold and resolute, lingered for a moment too long, making it clear that her words were no mere exaggeration.

Alex sat in silence, his lips pressed into a tight line. He wanted to defend himself, to say something—anything—but the intensity in her tone left no room for rebuttal. She crossed her arms, her stance rigid and unapproachable, her next words cutting even deeper.

"I hope you won't use my parents to threaten me ever again," she snapped, her voice dripping with disdain. The harshness in her tone was a stark contrast to her composed exterior. "We're just ordinary friends, Alex. Not whatever you're imagining."

Her declaration struck him like a blow. Though Alex flinched inwardly, he forced himself to appear calm, his face a mask of indifference. Yet Rose wasn't done. Her expression softened briefly, but the change felt more like calculated pity than genuine kindness, adding insult to injury.

"I'm heading up to shop," she said curtly, her words delivered with finality. "You can stay here in the parking lot and wait for me."

Without waiting for a response, she spun on her heel, her high heels clicking rhythmically against the pavement as she walked away. The sound seemed to echo in the silence she left behind, each step amplifying the tension that lingered between them.

Alex remained rooted in his seat, watching her retreating figure. The cold air inside the car seemed to grow heavier, mirroring the knot of frustration and confusion building in his chest.

But just as he thought the moment was over, Rose suddenly paused mid-step, her body stiffening as though struck by a thought. She turned back, her cold, calculating gaze locking onto Alex once more.

Without a word, she marched toward the car with determined strides. Leaning through the open window, her hand darted into Alex's coat pocket with practiced precision, pulling out a sleek black credit card. Her movements were deliberate, smooth—like someone who'd done this too many times to hesitate.

"A million dollars as a monthly allowance," she said, her tone filled with entitlement. She held the card up, examining it with a detached air, as if it were her rightful due. "That was your promise to me, wasn't it? So, the money in this card?" She glanced back at him, her expression unwavering. "You gave it willingly. I didn't force you to do anything."

The tone of Rose made it clear she didn't wanted the money from Alex but she was taking it because he wanted it, because he forcefully dragged her here. Because he begged his parents to go out with him.

It was pity nothing else. And she was doing it because her parents yold her to not because she wanted to.

Alex could feel her words burrow into his mind, each one laden with a calculated edge.

Straightening up, she slammed the car door shut with a force that made the entire vehicle shudder. Without another glance, she turned and strode toward the luxurious mall entrance. Her figure disappeared into the crowd, the echo of her heels fading into the distance.

Alex sat frozen in the driver's seat, his expression unreadable. His fingers drummed absentmindedly against the leather steering wheel, but inside, his thoughts churned violently.

The scene replayed in his mind like a disjointed dream, her cold demeanor, her piercing words. None of it felt real.

"Did I… transmigrate?" The question slipped from his lips, his voice barely audible as realization struck him.

Fragments of memories not his own surged through his mind, unraveling the truth. He could see it clearly now, his life wasn't his own anymore.

"I've transmigrated into a cheesy web novel?" The words tasted surreal as they left his mouth. The absurdity of the situation crashed over him, yet everything suddenly made sense: the extravagant lifestyle, the bizarre interaction with Rose, the over-the-top drama.

Leaning back in the luxurious leather seat, Alex ran a hand through his hair as the memories settled into place.

"Wait… wait… Wait… I'm the CEO of the Reid Industries now?" he muttered, leaning back in the leather seat as the memories gets settled.