I am the vicious female supporting character in a novel.

And yet I could only watch, helpless, as one transmigrator after another took over my body, debased herself, groveled to the lowest possible degree, and dreamed of saving a little bastard who was rotten to the core.

They called it redeeming the villain, letting him feel the warmth and beauty of the world.

But without exception, their ending was betrayal at the hands of that same little bastard once he rose to power-and death without even an intact corpse.

Then everything started over again.

I thought it would be another ridiculous redemption arc.

But I never expected that this transmigrator would drive a blade straight through his heart before the little bastard had even grown into his power.

A few drops of blood splattered across the transmigrator’s face, making her expression look eerily dark and strange. “We’d already offended him beyond repair anyway. Wouldn’t killing him now and ending the threat for good be better? This redemption game is honestly boring as hell.”

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