The concept was absurdly cliché. A young man descends from the mountains to experience city life, collects beautiful women like trading cards, becomes the bodyguard of an icy-cold female CEO, rescues a pure-hearted girl drowning in debt, gets entangled with a cool, stern policewoman, is saved by a beautiful nurse with a hidden identity, slaps arrogant young masters across the face, and rises to become a wealthy tycoon. It was the kind of plot that had been recycled so many times it should have been buried in the shallow grave of web novel tropes.
And yet, it was wildly popular.
Why? Because of character development. And, of course, the beautiful girls.
A monotone voice suddenly jolted me awake.
[Activate: Equal Change System]
[First-time activation bonus: One free exchange available.]
Ehh? System?
I blinked, my groggy mind struggling to process the words that had materialized in my consciousness. Ah, I see. So that's why I always felt that strange sense of déjà vu. I'm a protagonist.
A pause. Hmm?
"System, give me a memory seal on that déjà vu feeling."
[Processing... Done.]
A wave of heat washed over my brain—not uncomfortable, but noticeable, like sipping warm tea on a cold morning. When the sensation faded, I found myself possessing memories that weren't mine. Memories of reading a novel about a certain lover boy. Was that me? Or was it someone else entirely? If it was me, then who was the real me? The constant mental gymnastics made my head spin, so I shoved the question to the back of my mind and resolved to start my day.
My name is Tian Yu. I am 22 years old.
Currently, I work in the pharmaceutical industry. Well, now I do. Today is my first day on the job.
There's no need to describe my face—it's not exactly necessary for the plot—but if a typical model scores an 85 out of 100, then I'm a solid 99. Jealous? Envious? Good. You should be. BWAHAHAHA.
Ahem.
I have a bad habit of monologuing and then laughing at my own jokes. Or was that an insult? It sounded like an insult. Whatever. Let's move on.
Right now, I'm standing in my small apartment. It's a cramped little space—a tiny kitchen, a tiny bathroom, a tiny room, and a single bed. The rent costs 540 yuan, which is steep for someone like me, but I have no choice. I pull out my phone to check my balance: 1,362.25 yuan.
Wow. I'm being paranoid. I already know how much money I have, yet I still need to see it with my own eyes. Suspicious behavior, Tian Yu. Very suspicious.
Another day of work begins. Now that I think about it, it's quite boring.
"System, how much for a medicine that can erase wound scars?"
[Because of the principle of equivalent exchange, and since your only available currency is money, the cost is 100 yuan.]
I nodded to myself. That seemed reasonable.
I waited for my cold boss, Liu Qingyue, to arrive so I could propose a trade. But wait—wasn't that the same name as the heroine in Medicine God in the City, one of the novels I remembered from the implanted memories? I see.
So what am I? A mob character? A villain?
[To clarify: The Watcher has granted you an answer. You are indeed a villain. No matter what you do or how you try to change course, you will eventually face the protagonists.]
Protagonists?
So this was a crossover world. Multiple protagonists, multiple storylines, all converging into one chaotic narrative. But why was I cast as the villain? What had I done to deserve that role? Nothing yet—but according to the system, it didn't matter. Fate had already stamped my ticket.
Tch. Fine. If I'm destined to be a villain, then I'll be the most stylish, successful, and ridiculously handsome villain this world has ever seen. Let the protagonists come. I'll be ready.
---
The morning sun streamed through the grimy window of my tiny apartment, casting pale golden streaks across the worn wooden floor. I stretched my arms above my head, feeling the satisfying pop of joints loosening after a restless night. The system's presence hummed faintly at the edge of my awareness, a quiet reminder that my life had just taken a sharp turn into the absurd.
I dressed in my most presentable attire—a simple white button-up shirt and dark trousers, nothing flashy but enough to make a decent first impression. As I stepped out of my apartment and into the bustling streets of the city, I couldn't help but marvel at how ordinary everything seemed. Pedestrians hurried past with their heads down, phones glued to their ears. Street vendors called out their wares, the aroma of fried dough and soy milk wafting through the air. Cars honked impatiently in gridlocked traffic. It was the kind of mundane chaos that made city life both exhausting and endearing.
And somewhere out there, protagonists were gathering. Heroes of their own stories, each one destined to cross my path sooner or later.
The pharmaceutical company where I worked was a gleaming tower of glass and steel, a monument to corporate ambition nestled in the heart of the financial district. Liu Qingyue's office occupied the top floor, her domain an expanse of minimalist luxury that reflected her personality: cold, efficient, and untouchable.
I stepped into the elevator, watching the numbers climb with a sense of anticipation. My first day on the job, my first encounter with the icy CEO who would—according to the tropes—eventually warm up to me after countless trials and tribulations.
But wait, I reminded myself, I'm the villain. She's not supposed to warm up to me. She's supposed to hate me.
The elevator doors slid open with a soft chime. I walked through the corridor, my footsteps muffled by plush carpeting, and stopped in front of her office door. I knocked twice.
"Enter."
Her voice was sharp, clipped, and utterly devoid of warmth. I pushed the door open and stepped inside.
Liu Qingyue sat behind an imposing mahogany desk, her posture perfect, her expression carved from ice. She was stunningly beautiful—raven hair pulled into a severe bun, sharp cheekbones, and piercing eyes that seemed to see right through you. She wore a tailored black suit that probably cost more than my entire apartment.
"You're the new assistant?" she asked, not bothering to look up from the documents she was reviewing.
"Yes, ma'am. Tian Yu."
She finally raised her gaze to meet mine, and for a fraction of a second, something flickered in her eyes—surprise, perhaps, or curiosity. But it vanished as quickly as it appeared, replaced by the same cold indifference.
"Your desk is outside. Familiarize yourself with the protocols. I expect punctuality, efficiency, and absolute discretion. Do not waste my time."
And just like that, I was dismissed.
I retreated to my assigned desk, a modest workstation positioned just outside her office door, and began sorting through the mountain of paperwork that awaited me. It was tedious work, the kind of mindless drudgery that made me question whether being a villain was really worth it.
Maybe I should have been a hero instead. They get all the glory, the love interests, the dramatic power-ups...
But then again, villains had their perks. No moral restrictions. No pesky conscience holding you back. And if I played my cards right, maybe I could carve out my own happy ending—even if the world insisted on casting me as the antagonist.
---
The days blurred together in a monotonous rhythm. I filed documents, scheduled meetings, and fetched coffee for Liu Qingyue with a smile that didn't quite reach my eyes. She remained as cold and distant as ever, but I noticed small cracks in her armor—a faint smile when she thought no one was watching, a flicker of concern when she received an unsettling phone call.
I also kept an eye out for the other protagonists. The pure girl drowning in debt, the cool policewoman, the beautiful nurse with a hidden identity, and the young masters who would inevitably try to challenge me. None of them had appeared yet, but I knew it was only a matter of time.
One evening, as I was walking home through a narrow alleyway to avoid the rush hour crowds, I stumbled upon a scene that stopped me in my tracks.
A young woman was cornered by three burly men, her back pressed against a brick wall. Her clothes were torn, her face streaked with tears, and her hands trembled as she clutched a worn leather bag to her chest.
"Please," she begged, her voice barely above a whisper. "I don't have any more money. I'll pay you back, I swear—"
"Pay us back?" One of the men laughed, a cruel, guttural sound. "You've been saying that for months. We're done waiting. Either you hand over the money, or we'll find other ways for you to earn it."
Ah, I thought, the classic debt collector scenario.
The system hummed softly in the back of my mind. [The Watcher notes that this is a crucial plot point. The girl's name is Su Xiaomei, a heroine destined to be saved by a protagonist.]
So this is where the story begins.
I stepped out of the shadows, my hands casually tucked into my pockets, and flashed the men a grin. "Excuse me, gentlemen. I believe there's been a misunderstanding."
The men turned to face me, their expressions shifting from surprise to annoyance. "Who the hell are you?"
"Just a passerby with a keen sense of justice," I replied, my tone light and carefree. "And also a deep-seated hatred for men who threaten defenseless women. So why don't you walk away, and we'll pretend this never happened?"
The largest of the men stepped forward, cracking his knuckles. "You think you're some kind of hero, punk?"
If only you knew, I thought. I'm the villain. But in this scene, I'm playing the hero.
The fight was quick and brutal. I wasn't a martial arts master—not yet—but the system had given me a subtle edge. My reflexes were sharper, my hits harder, and my stamina seemingly endless. Within minutes, all three men were sprawled on the ground, groaning in pain.
Su Xiaomei stared at me with wide, tearful eyes. "Thank you," she whispered. "Thank you so much."
I smiled warmly, extending my hand to help her up. "No need to thank me. It was the right thing to do."
Liar, a voice whispered in the back of my mind. You did it because the system told you to. Because you knew she would be useful later.
I ignored the thought. For now, I was content to bask in the warmth of her gratitude.
---
As I walked Su Xiaomei to her modest apartment, I couldn't help but reflect on the strange turn my life had taken. One moment, I was a bored office worker with a chip on my shoulder; the next, I was a system-equipped villain navigating a crossover world filled with beautiful women and overpowered protagonists.
It's absurd, I thought. And yet, here I am. Living it.
"Tian Yu," Su Xiaomei said softly, breaking me from my reverie. "Will I see you again?"
I turned to her, my expression thoughtful. "I think that's inevitable, Xiaomei. Our paths are woven together now."
She blushed, her cheeks flushing a deep crimson. And in that moment, I felt a strange pang of guilt—a reminder that for all my bravado, I was still playing a part.
Maybe I'll change the script, I thought. Maybe this villain doesn't have to be so villainous after all.
The system remained silent, offering no answers. But somehow, that felt like approval.
---
Author's Note: I got bored, so I decided to try writing something fun and trope-heavy. Hope you enjoyed it! By the way, what exactly are power stones? Lol.