Ch.00. I Became a Villain in a Light Novel

A protagonist needs a villain worthy of them.

Whether the genre is film or comics, this is an unchanging truth. Even if the title is an unrealistic light novel like “I Have too Many Girlfriends,” it’s no different.

After all, there’s no story without conflict between characters.

From that perspective, Han Siwoo, one of the characters in “I Have too Many Girlfriends,” or “IHTMG” for short, was truly a bastard fitting for the villain role.

Using his chaebol third-generation background to bully classmates, extort money, and inflict all kinds of humiliation—a delinquent who committed enough evil deeds to fill a full A4 page. That was Han Siwoo.

The story of “IHTMG” begins with its first episode where the protagonist, unable to stand Han Siwoo’s behavior any longer, confronts him directly.

Having re-read it more than ten times, I couldn’t possibly forget. I know not only what happens next but even exactly how many times the protagonist talks to himself throughout the story.

Despite knowing everything about “IHTMG” inside out, and even being able to predict future events just from the protagonist’s lines…

Even I couldn’t have predicted this.

No, there was no way to predict it.

Because really…

“…Huh, seriously.”

Who could have possibly anticipated becoming the villain in a light novel?

***

If someone asked me to name the most unpleasant sound in the world, I would choose the military wake-up bugle without hesitation.

That devilish music that eliminates any desire to sleep from the very first note—the wake-up bugle.

I thought I’d never have to hear it again since it’s been quite a while since I was discharged.

Yet somehow, I was lying in an unusually comfortable bed, listening to that hateful music.

“What the… damn.”

Perhaps it was because I drank too much last night, but I barely managed to open my eyes while feeling a headache that threatened to split my skull.

The first thing that entered my vision was my studio apartment, transformed with unfamiliar interior design.

“…?”

For a moment, I wondered if I had drunkenly entered the wrong room. Or maybe my friends came over while I was drunk and played a prank.

Confused but determined, I reached for the phone at my bedside.

Whatever was happening, dealing with that PTSD-triggering alarm sound was my priority.

Naturally, while the room’s atmosphere had changed, my phone remained the same—an old smartphone with a crack on the right edge of the screen from when I dropped it while drunk. The alarm sound wasn’t originally the wake-up bugle, so when did I change it?

After turning off the alarm, I somehow managed to sit on the edge of the bed in my half-awake state.

“…Is it just my imagination?”

But something felt strange. Why was the bed so soft? Maybe it was because I wasn’t fully sober yet, but the bed sheets felt oddly plush. It didn’t feel like the bed in my studio apartment.

When I pressed down on the bed, my fingers sank in. And then they bounced back comfortably without wobbling—the texture was definitely different, too distinct to dismiss as my imagination.

The bed I used didn’t have such luxurious sheets.

As that thought crossed my mind, a sudden anxiety washed over me.

While my friends were quite mischievous, they weren’t crazy enough for this kind of prank, and they certainly didn’t have the money for it. How could job-seeking students afford to change beds and interior design?

So I jumped up.

I must have really gotten drunk and entered someone else’s house by mistake. I was about to grab my phone and rush out, but I couldn’t.

I was currently wearing only underwear, completely naked otherwise. If I went out like this, I’d definitely be treated like a lunatic.

I don’t have a habit of stripping when drunk, so when did I take off all my clothes? Confused, I looked for something to wear.

I figured I could borrow clothes now and pay for them later. Whether I’d be forgiven was a problem for later.

The first thing that caught my eye was the wardrobe. I approached it without hesitation and flung open the door.

“Wow.”

I couldn’t help but exclaim.

The wardrobe was filled with so many clothes that my eyes widened. A quick glance revealed men’s clothes that looked expensive at first sight.

This would clearly cost a fortune if I were to wear them. My Adam’s apple bobbed at the realization. Not because I coveted them, but because I worried about how I’d pay the original owner back.

I might not know much about luxury brands, but I know their prices. Just two outfits would cost… how many zeros? It would probably exceed several months of my salary.

So I was about to close the wardrobe when at that moment…

The mirror attached to the wardrobe reflected my image, wearing nothing but underwear.

If I gave up on the clothes and left now, it would be equivalent to going outside wearing just underwear.

“…”

Should I become a pervert or a debtor?

Faced with this dilemma, I finally squeezed my eyes shut.

“Better a debtor than… a pervert.”

Still, I should try to pick something that looks less expensive. That way I might have a better excuse later. With that thought, I rummaged through the wardrobe.

But no matter how hard I looked, there were no affordable brand clothes. Reach here, luxury brand; reach there, luxury brand. Even the leather belts and socks were luxury items.

For a moment I wondered if they were fake, but judging by the stitching and fabric quality, they couldn’t possibly be counterfeit. Even if they were fake, they were of such high quality that they were indistinguishable from the real thing.

If all of these were genuine luxury items, how rich was the owner of this room?

It felt like I was committing a crime. No, I was definitely committing a crime. Since everything was a luxury brand anyway, I decided to just grab anything and leave, so I picked up the first piece of clothing my hand touched.

What I held in my hand was…

“…Is this a school uniform?”

I wasn’t sure at first since I’d never seen it before, but seeing the name tag on the chest, it was definitely a school uniform top.

The name “Han Siwoo” was embroidered in gold on the name tag.

A name I’d heard—or more precisely, seen—many times before.

“I Have too Many Girlfriends,” or “IHTMG” for short. The delinquent villain named Han Siwoo who appears in that light novel.

The only Han Siwoo I knew was that one.

“…”

Surely it must be a coincidence. Just someone who happens to have the same name.

Even lottery winners with odds of 1 in 8 million appear more than a dozen times every week, so having the same name in Korea shouldn’t be that uncommon.

With that thought, I casually—really casually—looked at my reflection in the mirror.

But either my eyes were deceiving me, or the face reflected in the mirror was very different from usual.

The sharp, intimidating eyes and jawline were one thing, but what about this hair color?

I touched my bangs. Following my fingers, silvery hair that gently shimmered tickled my eyebrows.

Yes, not black hair, but silver.

A hair color that made it impossible to think I was Korean.

“What, the…”

Did someone dye my hair while I was asleep…?

That couldn’t be.

Even if that were the case, how did my face change overnight?

I thought I must still be dreaming.

So I pinched my cheek hard.

The man in the mirror also pinched his cheek.

Finding it so absurd, I twisted my cheek completely.

“Ow.”

That really hurt.

And this fact meant only one thing.

This wasn’t a dream.

“…This can’t be happening.”

They say that when people are extremely shocked, they don’t scream but freeze completely—that was my situation.

Unable to process this situation with my mind, I could only stare blankly at the mirror.

Yes. My reflection in the mirror was a character whose face I had seen many times in the illustrations of the light novel “I Have too Many Girlfriends.”

Though slightly different because 2D had become 3D, the essence remained unchanged.

And not just any character, but the villain who tormented the protagonist and heroine.

The third-generation chaebol villain “Han Siwoo,” whom all readers unanimously cursed, was moving alive before my eyes.

That alone would be enough to make anyone faint, but to make matters worse, that villain was me.

“…Is this even possible?”

I thought novel transmigration only happened in fictional worlds. But now that it was happening in reality, it wasn’t fascinating at all. What kind of bolt from the blue was this?

Pressing my temples that threatened to bring on dizziness, I tried to recall what happened yesterday.

I went to work in the morning, worked as usual, left late in the afternoon. Then I had some drinks with friends, came home, showered, and went to bed.

“…Was that all?”

I think I might have typed something on my phone before sleeping. Since I did it while drunk, I couldn’t remember clearly, so I turned on my phone to check.

Fortunately or unfortunately, while my body had changed, my phone remained the same.

But only its appearance was intact. The contacts, messages, KakaoTalk conversations, and internet browsing history were all filled with things I’d never seen before.

It seemed strange at first, but then I realized it made sense. If the person changed, it would be weird if the phone contents remained the same.

“Ah…”

As I was holding the phone, not knowing what to do, it suddenly vibrated in my hand.

Checking to see what it was, I found it was an alarm from the calendar app. It seemed to be a system that sends notifications when a specified date and time arrives.

The date on the screen was March 2nd. And in the notes section, it said “first day of school.”

“…School?”

The fact that the first weekday of March is the first day of school is something anyone who spent their school days in Korea would know.

Yes, I understood that much. But what did that have to do with me?

I had already graduated from university and completed my military service. Was I supposed to go back to school?

“What is this even…”

That was as far as my complaints could go.

*Knock knock.*

With a neat knocking sound, someone’s voice came from beyond the door.

“Young master, it’s time for school.”

The inevitable had arrived.