The Villains Must Win

The bunny narrowed its eyes. "Not the ending we were expecting . . . but . . ."

There was genuine surprise in its voice, and I could feel my pride practically bubbling up like champagne. I leaned back and smugly crossed my arms.

"What? Can't say it? Just admit it. I rocked that world. Brilliant plan, ten out of ten if I do say so myself."

The bunny rolled its eyes so hard I thought they might fly out of its skull. "Don't get too full of yourself. You died—twice, might I remind you—in that world."

My mood instantly dropped like a fallen soufflé. "Okay, first of all, can we not bring up the little hiccup? I was experimenting. Exploring my options. Growth isn't linear."

The bunny raised one fuzzy brow.

I pressed on. "What matters is that I won. I got the money, the man, the legacy. I even saved the mentally-scarred-glass-cage-ladies. That's basically a side quest cleared. I deserve bonus stars, honestly."

The bunny let out a long sigh and took a dramatic breath, like it was preparing to drop a cosmic bomb.

"Fine. You got perfect stars. The system awards you 100 stars."

My jaw dropped. "What?! One hundred?! Are you serious right now?!"

The bunny nodded, ears flopping slightly. "What did you expect? It was a Rank-A world. The stat reward is much higher than in your comfy little B-rank beginner rounds."

"Sweet mercy of magical burritos," I muttered, practically vibrating with excitement. "If I complete just ten more worlds like that . . . that's 1,000 stars! I could finally make my wish."

The bunny tilted its head. "Only if you don't keep dying like an overconfident NPC."

"Pfft," I scoffed. "Please. That was just one bad run. Two, tops. The important thing is that I ended it like a boss. Honestly, I should get extra points for the pillow thing. That was genius."

The bunny didn't even blink.

"But seriously," I said, rubbing my hands together. "Now that I've got 100 stars, what can I buy? Any cool weapons? Magic-enhancing trinkets? Maybe something to boost charm or intelligence? Oooh, maybe a loyalty-erasing elixir?"

Without missing a beat, the bunny swiped open a glowing catalog filled with shimmering icons.

"You can afford . . ." It scrolled dramatically. ". . . either a pack of extra crispy French fries or a glittery rainbow lollipop that does nothing but sparkle in your pocket."

I stared. "You're joking."

"I am not."

"A hundred stars, and all I can get is deep-fried sadness or edible glitter?!"

"Well," the bunny said, voice smug. "You could save your stars. It'll come in handy the next time you die."

I glared. "Not. Gonna. Happen."

I stretched my arms, cracked my neck, and stood tall in the void, like a warrior queen preparing to enter the next battlefield.

"Alright. I want another Rank-A world. Give me something twisted, dramatic, and dangerous. Bonus points if there's a hot villain with emotional issues."

The bunny blinked. "You sure you don't want to take a break? Maybe try a Rank-B again to build up some more confidence?"

"Never." I grinned. "That'd be like demoting a general to peeling potatoes. I was born for the big leagues."

The bunny sighed and tapped its paw. "Fine. Next Rank-A world coming up. Plotline is randomized. Difficulty: brutal. Morality: ambiguous. Love interests: questionable."

"Perfect," I said, smirking. "Let the chaos begin."

And with that, the void shimmered once more.

I felt the weight of a new body settling into place, the air around me changing, reality bending—

But this time, I was ready.

I had 100 stars in my pocket, a brain full of drama-fueled strategy, and zero fear of villains with attachment issues.

Because the one thing no one ever expects?

Sometimes, the villain wins.

And this time, I planned to win again.

The next thing I knew, I was in another strange world. My surroundings were different—darker, colder, and steeped in a heavy, unnatural silence.

And as soon as I opened my eyes, a familiar chime echoed inside my head.

"Remember host . . . the villains must win."

I blinked hard, trying to process the new mission. The last time I was in a Rank-A world, I practically tangoed with death, manipulation, obsessive lovers, and psychotic control freaks.

And I died—twice. But sure, let's do it all over again. Because who needs therapy, right?

This time, though, the system didn't drop me into a modern romance with mafia lords or obsessive billionaires.

No, this time, it shoved me right into a full-blown fantasy warzone. And the twist? It wasn't a vague, everyone-might-be-the-villain kind of world. The system got specific.

Villain Target: Salister Blood; Pureblood Noble, Crown Prince of the Vampires.

At least they weren't leaving me guessing this time.

Salister Blood. The name alone oozed drama. According to the briefing, he wasn't just any vampire. He was THE vampire. The heir to the ancient, ruling bloodline.

Elegant, ruthless, cold, and feared by even his own kind. He wasn't just the villain of this world—he was its living nightmare.

And me? Well, I wasn't dropped into a cozy noble lady's body this time. No duchess. No fragile heiress.

I was Selis Everhart—fresh recruit of the elite Vampire Hunting Corps, the last line of defense for the human race.

Yeah. Go ahead. Laugh.

So let me summarize that for you:

Mission: Help the villain win.

Current status: On the opposite side of a centuries-long war against said villain.

Access to cheats, hints, or memories of this world? Zero.

Amazing. Just peachy.

Of course, I immediately ran a mental checklist. I didn't have any special items. No holy artifact tucked in my bra. No god-tier blade. And certainly no cheat code that screamed "use me to seduce the vampire prince."

I was just a foot soldier. A nobody. A grunt in the trenches with a borrowed sword and a death wish.

But I've always said: give me a no-win scenario, and I'll turn it into a no-rules game. I thrive in chaos. If the goal is to make Salister Blood—the vampire prince, enemy of humanity, and walking red flag—win, then I'll just have to find a way.

Even if that means going full traitor.

Even if that means betraying my squad.

Even if that means offering my neck to the most dangerous vampire in existence and saying, "Hey, want to team up?"

. . . Eventually. Not right away. Obviously.