Mga Maiikling Kuwento at Nobela Transmigration

My mother was the villainess of a story. When I was born, the story came to its end. In the past, she was a rich heiress who drowned herself in luxury and pleasure. At present, everyone condemned her and spat in her path. After my father, the male lead of the story, betrayed her, her family went bankrupt. She knew nothing and had no skills, but for me, she was willing to learn from scratch.

On the day I entered my contract marriage with Brian Janson, a flood of comments suddenly flashed before my eyes. [No…! The villainess is going to ruin the male lead’s purity!] [The CEO’s first time should belong to the heroine! Shameless woman, get off his waist right now!] [Are they going to do it or not? I’m on a tight schedule.] [Come on, have some loyalty to the main couple!] [If Brian knew he wouldn’t be able to give Quincy the ‘pure, untouched version’ of himself in the future, he’d probably drown in guilt.] Pure, untouched version? Sorry. I was born a villain, and making trouble is what I do best. So while Brianwas drunk, I leaned in without the slightest bit of guilt. The comments exploded again. [It’s over. They look like they’re about to get married for real!] [Am I seeing things? Did the male lead just… smile?]

After the ball is over, Prince Adrian Valmont delivers a glass slipper to my family. Whoever fits into the slipper will become the future princess. In the first life, my oldest sister, Mira Carrington, steels her heart and chops off her toes so that she can wear the slipper. She successfully becomes the princess afterward. On their wedding night, Adrian spots Mira's bleeding foot. He's quick to unsheathe his sword and cut her into pieces. "This is what you get for impersonating the princess!" In the second life, my second sister, Bianca Carrington, dices off her sole in order to fit her foot into the slipper. But Adrian still discovers her injury on the day after their wedding, resulting in him hanging her from the castle wall. "How dare you impersonate her? You definitely have a death wish!" In the third life, my foot slips into the glass slipper very easily. But Adrian still gouges out my heart on our wedding night. His features are contorted heavily. "You don't love me at all, so why are you impersonating my princess?" In the fourth time loop, Adrian comes knocking on our door with the glass slipper once again. This time, neither of us has the guts to approach him. This leaves Adrian enraged. "The owner of the glass slipper is in your house! If I don't see her in three days, all of you shall die!"

I was the long-lost daughter of the wealthiest family. On my first day back, I was handed a two-hundred-million-dollar trust fund. But that very night, I found out our entire family was doomed to end badly. We were mere cannon fodder in someone else’s story. My father was the overbearing tycoon who would be publicly humiliated and driven into bankruptcy by the male lead. My mother was the harsh, spiteful mother-in-law who made the female lead’s life miserable. My brother was the devoted second male lead who willingly played the fool and got cheated on. My adoptive sister was the tragic “first love” supporting character, destined for a miserable end. Me: “Wow. Just great.”

After landing in three different wish-fulfillment novels, I pretty much lived life on easy mode. Then I opened my eyes again and found myself playing the long-suffering male lead in a tragic romance. I seriously considered banging my head against the wall to see if that would knock me into another book. Before I could try, the original Joel Johnson's memories flooded my mind. His father ran the criminal underworld. His mother was worth billions. And his childhood sweetheart was gorgeous, rich, and completely in love with him. With all that going for him, the guy still chose to chase the most toxic woman he could find. For all his trouble, he ended up dead, and his rival even fed his remains to stray dogs. He deserved a better ending than that. I stepped back from the wall just as a text arrived from the man responsible. He even attached a photo of himself in bed with Fiona Casey, the two of them looking awfully cozy. [Fiona drank a little too much, so she's spending the night at my place. Don't worry. I'll take good care of her.] Perfect. He gave me the names, the time, and the location, all without me having to ask. I immediately contacted every major entertainment news outlet I could find. [I've got a scoop for you. A no-name actor is spending the night with a wealthy CEO. Apparently, they're 'going over a !']

After my death, I found myself inside a romance strategy game, where the system assigned me three male leads. If I followed its instructions and successfully captured the heart of any one of them, I would return alive and well in the real world. Drawing on my experience, I crafted careful scripts to win their affection. Yet, every attempt ended in failure. The reason was simple: each of them had already fallen for the dazzling heroine of their world. They hurled cruel words at me, as if wishing I would just drop dead. In the end, I fulfilled their desire—when my strategies failed, the system erased me. But the moment I died, they all regretted it. One by one, they begged the heavens to return me to them.

I had always been obedient. Whatever people told me to do, I did. On the day the king and queen brought me back to the palace, my adopted brother leaned close and sneered, "How did it feel to spend three months as a gutter rat? If you have any sense, roll even farther away this time." I nodded, turned, and ran straight toward the edge of a towering cliff. My father and mother were terrified. They barely managed to drag me back, their faces drained of color. When my elder sister saw it, she grabbed my collar and said coldly, "Attention-seeking trash. If being crown prince embarrasses you this much, you might as well die." I said nothing. I grabbed a vial of poison and poured it down my throat. Blood burst from my mouth and nose. My sister froze on the spot, then scrambled out to call the physicians, looking at me like I was a monster. Not long after that, my adopted brother pretended to fall ill, and my sister held a knife to my throat, forcing me to donate blood for him. Before she could finish speaking, I followed the force of her blade and cut my own throat. The moment my parents pushed open the door, blood sprayed across their faces. The room went silent for one stunned instant before screams exploded everywhere. Amid the chaos, I weakly raised my head and looked at the transparent panel floating in the air. The number on it flickered again and again before stopping at 99. They did not know that as long as I obeyed one final time, I could complete the entire storyline for a cannon fodder character in a tragic novel. Then I could leave this world forever and return to my real home.

I had always been what you would call a slow person. Case in point: When I saw the stern-looking female CEO appearing in the financial news who looked just like my wife, it took me ages to finally realize it was truly her. Immediately after, a stream of comments highlighted in different colors overlaid my vision. [Oh my God! Julian Vance, the shameless supporting male lead, has finally shown up to stir the pot! Imagine dragging a child into this just to scam Ms. Eunice Latour, how disgusting!] [Didn’t he already make away with two million as compensation? Why is he back again? He must be sick in the head if he thinks that he can use his child as a pawn to get ahead in life!] [I can’t wait to see Mr. Carter put him in his place! Let the real male and female protagonists shine!] It took me half a minute before I finally wrapped my head around what they were saying. It seemed I had been in the world of a novel, one where I was cast as an evil supporting male lead whose main goal was to make the male and female protagonists look good. My wife was Eunice Latour, the female protagonist in question. One day, she went out to buy food for the baby, only to never return.

What happens when the tormented female lead in a novel wakes up and decides to get together with the second male lead? Coincidentally enough, I'm transmigrated into the body of this tormented female lead!

I found out I was the villainess of a romance novel called Sunshine Donna when I was already pregnant. For twenty-two years, I'd chased Renato Gatti without a shred of shame. Then came three years of marriage, just the two of us, wrapped up in each other. I'd thought it was everything. Then his true love showed up. According to the story, I was supposed to fall apart. I'd torment the girl, sabotage their relationship, and in the process, destroy myself. A bullet through the forehead. That was how it ended for Gianna Milano. I looked up. Renato was across the room, phone in hand, the ghost of a smile on his lips. He'd met her. Fine. This time, I'd step aside. But when I asked for a divorce— He cried. He begged me to stay. He threw the entire East Coast at the problem, just to keep me from walking out the door.

I somehow became the "dream girl" of a cold, dangerous villain straight outta a novel. Well—technically, it was my mini burritos that did the damage. Hot, cheap, and hit like a hug. The year his whole world crashed, Rory Roth showed up scrawny and wrecked, clutching three crumpled bucks. "Can I get one mini burrito?" I stood there with a spatula in hand, staring at the kid who'd one day become some criminal mastermind genius. But right now? No threat, no swagger—just a shivering kid with wary eyes. "I'm not tryna scam you. If it's not enough, I'll wash dishes, mop floors, help with customers—whatever. Once I make up the rest, c-could you make me a mini burrito then?" That's when it hit me. This so-called villain... was just a starving, beat-down kid.

The day I proposed to Hannah Amell, we discovered that we were characters in a romance novel about a woman destined to save a broken man. She was the heroine, fated to devote her life to redeeming the male lead. I was nothing more than a nobody in the background. Hannah’s eyes had blazed with fury. Defying the fate written for her, she dragged me to the courthouse to make our marriage official, then held a lavish wedding with me. As I held her in my arms, she made me a promise. “Leon, I don’t believe in some stupid book or its ridiculous redemption plot. The only thing I believe in is that I love you.” In the years that followed, everyone saw us as the perfect, devoted couple. I really thought we could spend the rest of our lives happily, growing old side by side. Then, in the third year of our marriage, the novel’s hero got drunk, rode his motorcycle the wrong way down the road, and came hurtling straight toward me. In a split second, I wrenched the wheel aside and slammed hard into the roadside barrier. I was covered in blood. A shard of glass had pierced my heart. Every beat sent another burst of fatal pain through my chest. Hannah, sitting in the passenger seat, was shaken but completely unharmed. She struggled to force open the car door. The moment she saw the unconscious man lying on the ground, all the color drained from her face. “Cedric!” In that instant, the blood in my veins ran cold. Cedric. That was the name of the novel’s hero.

I had always been a people pleaser. Yet somehow, I ended up transmigrating into the role of the vicious wife of a general. After three years away at war, Scott Holden returned and brought his so-called true love back with him. I handed over the main bedroom without hesitation, cooked for her myself, stayed up all night stitching a pair of matching pillows, and even had all the staff lined up to welcome her properly. But instead of being pleased, Jennifer Cross burst into tears. "This is all my fault. I have no name, no status, yet I'm staying here at Holden Residence, letting Lillian humiliate me like this. If that's the case, I'll just leave!" It hit me all at once. So that was what she wanted. A proper title. So I drafted a divorce letter for Scott myself, brought it to him, and said with an ingratiating smile, "After you divorce me, could you maybe keep me on the side as a mistress? My parents are gone. I don't have anywhere else to go." Scott flew into a rage. "I see right through your little tricks. Jennifer is just staying here temporarily. Are you really that petty?" From that day on, he never set foot in my room again. Then one day, enemy forces attacked. Jennifer and I were both captured and strung up on the city wall, forcing Scott to choose between us. Before he could even decide, I shouted eagerly, "I'll die, I'll die! I'm totally willing! I love that rush you get from falling from high up, that adrenaline spike!" After all, once I died, I could finally go home. But for the first time, Scott's eyes turned red with panic.

After transmigrating into a novel, I realized the heroine and I had the exact same name. Naturally, I thought I had transmigrated into the female lead. So I marched straight to the man who was still a broke nobody at the time, threw all caution to the wind, and pounced on him like I had plot armor protecting me. He even glared at me with red eyes and told me he hated me. I honestly thought he was just into the whole push-and-pull thing. Everything shattered when the real heroine showed up and I finally understood one thing. He actually hated me. Heartbroken, I packed my bags and got ready to disappear. The next second, he pinned me against the wall. "Where are you going? Already bored of me, sweetheart?"

"I'll cut to the chase. I'm the villainess in this story." Everyone in this wealthy, elite family adored my poor, fragile adopted sister. My older brother Damien would snap, "Don't scare Bella. Her weak heart can't take it." My other brother, Magnus, would add, "Lend Bella your nightgown, all right? It's wasted on you." Even my fiancé said, "This is nothing more than a marriage of convenience. My true love has always been Bella." In my last life, I humbled myself endlessly to please them. What did I receive in return? They sent me to a mental asylum and I died in agony. Then I came back to life on the day of my engagement party. A voice echoed in my mind and made its announcement. [The Madness Reward System has chosen you, Marceline Blanc. Any unhinged behavior will earn rewards worth hundreds of millions of dollars.] I grinned and sent the pompous, ten-tier cake crashing to the floor. "I'm done with this shitty family. Goodbye, you miserable bastards."

I'm notoriously known for being a vile heiress in this city's elite circle. I do whatever I want just because my family is rich and powerful. If I don't like someone, I won't hesitate to slap them on the spot. If any family dares to offend me, I'll have my family terminate all contracts with that family's business. Everyone is terrified whenever they bring me up. But everything changes when my dad brings Gwen Herman, the low-income student he's been sponsoring, home with him. Suddenly, I can hear her inner thoughts. Gwen tells me that this world is actually a novel with a plot where everyone adores and dotes on the main character. Apparently, Gwen is the kind-hearted female lead loved by everyone, whereas I'm the evil side character who's destined to be humiliated at every turn. What a coincidence. I already found out about this fact ten years ago. I watch as Gwen cowers at the side delicately like some wounded angel who looks eerily similar to my dad. Meanwhile, my dad is awfully protective of her and goes as far as to be extremely mean to me to my face. That's when I begin chortling loudly. "Just because I call you 'Dad' doesn't mean you're really my father, my dear stepdad."

In the tenth year of my pursuit of Henry Stone—the profoundly devoted deuteragonist in the novel—he arranges a lavish, extravagant wedding on my behalf. I still feel uneasy even though Henry continues to love me deeply after we get married. This is because the mission progress bar displayed by the system has never moved past zero. On our wedding anniversary, I happen to stumble upon a hidden diary in Henry's desk drawer, which reveals a very shocking truth—Henry has been reborn. He possesses full knowledge that this world is a novel and that I am the antagonist who poses a threat to the protagonist, Renee Schmidt. He puts on a careful act of profound love toward me, strictly for the purpose of shielding Renee, the person he truly cares for. I have just gotten the gist of the whole situation when the system's warning goes off. "You have failed your romance mission. Your existence will be terminated within 48 hours."

My sister, Emily Statham, "accidentally" spills a pot of scalding Cajun gumbo onto my leg. I'm in so much pain that I roll around on the floor, but she cries harder than I do. Mom hugs and comforts her. "It's okay, it's okay. Your sister's tough." My fiance, Elliott Gray, glances over at me and says, "Just rinse it with some cold water. Stop embarrassing yourself." Comments in gold float past my eyes. [Emily just loves her sister so much that she got overexcited!] [And the mother just has a sharp tongue. Deep down, she's actually devastated!] [The male lead is just weird that way. He cares, but he's too shy to show it in public!] I look down at the blisters already forming on my leg. For the first time, I wonder if it's not the commenters who are blind. Maybe I am.

In the seventh year of marrying into the Dawson family, Amanda Dawson's childhood friend, Leroy Blanchard, has returned from overseas. Leroy is very outgoing and handsome, not to mention he's extremely capable, too. Soon, he becomes the apple of everyone's eye. Even my father-in-law, who has never liked me, to begin with, has nothing but praises for Leroy. On Leroy's birthday, Amanda spends a huge amount of money in organizing his birthday party before declaring her love for him in a high-profile manner. The entire city is waiting to watch me, the legally-wedded husband, embarrass myself just so I can kick up a huge fuss over the whole thing. But I merely smile faintly before packing my things and getting ready to leave. I've been in this world for seven years. Finally, I'm about to finish acting out all of my scenes as the lovesick male supporting lead.

For six months, I pick through trash to scrape together enough money to buy Mom a beautiful dress for her birthday. I can't wait to give it to her. But the moment I hand her the dress, her gentle smile vanishes. She screams, shoves me to the floor, and grabs a chair. She brings it down on me again and again. "Did that monster put you up to this? Did he tell you to give me this dress just to hurt me? You've got his blood in your veins! I should've known you'd turn on me!" She beats me until I'm barely breathing, then runs out of the house, leaving me alone on the cold floor. As my vision blurs, a book suddenly opens before my eyes. That's when I learn the truth. I'm the tragic male lead in a dark novel. The story has that monster force himself on Mom just to give me a miserable childhood. I'm the reason her whole life was ruined. I smile and reach toward the glowing pages with a bloodied hand. I'll save Mom, even if it means I was never born.