The Scum Villain's Self Saving System Novel Novels & Stories

“You feed on her.” “She writes. You circle,” another added. “Vulture man. Always at the edge of the page, waiting for the Author’s soul to starve itself enough to fall into your mouth.” Corvin’s jaw clenched. “I did not make this grave,” he said. “I did not build this world. The system did. With her words, yes. With others’. But do not mistake my presence for ownership.” “You always do this,” the villain said. “Find the Key. Promise them you’ll save them. Drink their pain like wine when you fail. Repeat.”

Spitting curses and profanity, the man slapped her hard in the face, sending her falling to the ground. "You nasty bitch!" The villain lunged towards the girl, grabbing the hem of her skirt and pushing it up her legs. "No, don't touch her!" Another thug rushed to the scene, pulling his mad fellow from the girl, who was kicking and clawing frantically at her attacker. "Get your hands off her. She's worth a fortune only if she remains untouched." "How so?" The scarred man scoffed. "We'll sell her to the brothel next town. I heard they pay handsomely for virgins."

Illegal deals. I observed them closely, and then he looked in my direction. That’s not my boss, that’s Director Orion Kade. The lights in the alley flickered and went off. This is dangerous. I tried to reverse and leave, but I hit something. A tall silhouette approached. The figure stopped in front of my car. My heart skipped as I gripped the wheel tightly. He lifted a torch and pointed it at my face. He came closer and raised the light. His face had a deep scar, visible even in the harsh lighting. I had no space to think clearly anymore. He opened the door, pulled out a table knife, and dragged me out by my hair.

Suddenly, footsteps echo from all directions while doors of parked SUVs slam open, and then dozens of men come flooding out of nowhere—more than twenty of them, and seconds later, they're circling Ilya and Valen like flies. Then Mr. Scar emerges from their midst, flicking ash off his cigar, wearing a smirk. “You didn’t think I’d wait for a phone call, did you, Valen?” Valen rolls his eyes. “Inpatient is an unattractive trait in an alpha.” Scar's eyes darken. “Kill them and make sure you bring me their bodies," he orders his men, and with that, he turns and leaves. “What do you say about going for a ride, pretty soldier?” Valen smirks as his back hits Ilya's, his eyes glued to one of the blac

The word felt like a cold needle in my spine. "The rivalry. The pressure. The losses." Caleb grabbed my hand. He pressed my thumb against the glass of the scanner. "I needed you to hate the system as much as I do. I needed you to realize that being a 'good' man gets you a grave next to your father. Being a villain? That gets you the world." I looked at the scanner. Then I looked at Caleb. He wasn't the rival I’d spent a decade fighting. He wasn't the savior who’d secretly paid my bills. He was a co-conspirator. A revolutionary who had burned my life down just to see what kind of man would walk out of the ashes.

At first, he narrows his eyebrows in chaos but as soon as realisation hits him, his eyes widen in scepticism. The other men stand behind him, sharing the same expression. “What the-” Bryce says, stepping further into the room. “Imagine going after someone in order to sneak into a mafia’s system. And not any mafia, but the one who owns the half of the America,” I say. “Sounds absurd, right?” “I can’t believe it,” the bald guy says, feeling deceived. Noah. “This can’t be real. You’re not-” “I am, Zack Torres. Now stop convincing yourself that I’m not real,” I scoff.

It was less a home and more a palace, a monument to centuries of accumulated, absolute power. ​As the car pulled up to the grand entrance, Amara felt the final, definitive click of the cage locking shut. She was here. She was a Valenti. She was a bartered bride. Her old life, agonizing as it was, was gone. She was now standing at the threshold of a new, high-stakes terror, and she knew instinctively that escaping this prison would be infinitely harder than escaping the last. Emiliano opened his door without looking at her. The moment of reckoning had arrived.

They were Scrapper tech. "Now!" a voice roared from the shadows. A wall of "Frequency-Fire"—the illegal, dirty energy of the slums—blasted the Apostle, pushing her back. From the ruins of the tenements, the people of the slums emerged. They weren't Alphas. They weren't "Vessels." They were the Scrappers, the forgotten, the ones who had seen the "Dormant" files on their screens and realized they were being farmed like cattle.

"You told me that you would let me have all the credit! It's all your fault that I'm now like this! It's your fault!" Jasper looked coldly at Avery and said, "If it weren't for you, Ari and I would still have been together! You're truly a bitch! Why are you so hard to get rid of? Why are you still alive even after drinking so much contaminated water? I should have just killed you when I had the chance!" Jasper and Avery then began arguing loudly with each other while everyone in the research center watched. Eventually, Jasper couldn't hold out anymore. Under everyone's frightful gaze, every bone in Jasper's body suddenly shattered without warning, and he heaved his very last breath.

"The Scourge. They're moving again. Vex saw them. A whole group of them, heading southeast, toward Karenthel." "They're going to attack the city," someone else said. "They're going to destroy it like they destroyed Millbrook." The panic that had been simmering beneath the surface of our carefully constructed routine suddenly boiled up. We'd spent the winter trying to pretend that we were building something, that we were preparing for a future. But the news that the Scourge was moving again, that the larger world was still being torn apart, was enough to shatter that delusion. Corvin called us together that evening. Vex was present, and Solace, and the two other soldiers who'd survived the ke